


Tales of Alharis, Part One: The Lastalia's Awakening

by doctorcanon



Series: Tales of Mash Up: Tales of Alharis [1]
Category: Tales of Berseria, Tales of Graces, Tales of Series, Tales of Vesperia, Tales of Xillia, Tales of Zestiria, Tales of the Abyss
Genre: Abuse of a Non Human Child, Alternate Universe - Dark, Animated Corpses, Blood and Gore, Child Death, Chronic Illness, Fainting, Graphic Description of Corpses, Mental Health Issues, Monsters, Multi, Murder, Selectively Mute Character, Terminal Illnesses, Violence, Vomiting, War Crimes, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:06:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 58,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24199438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorcanon/pseuds/doctorcanon
Summary: Known as the Tales of Mash Up on Tumblr.There hasn't been a murder in Lhant in over ten years. So when former Major Victoria is slaughtered in the street, the whole town is terrified. Determined to protect his expecting wife, brother and adopted daughter, Lord Asbel Lhant will do anything to guarantee Lhant stays peaceful even as the war rages outside of Hyland Kingdom. As he struggles to keep his composure, his province sits on the cusp of pandemonium. The killer, a mysterious woman from Gand, claims she's Sister Velvet Crowe. Moreover, she refuses to answer any questions until she's allowed to negotiate her release. It's an unbelievable claim. Everyone knows Velvet Crowe has been dead for the last decade. However, when Lhant's resident priest Sorey finds evidence to back up all of her claims, all hell breaks loose."Asbel swore that as long as he is Lord of Lhant, blood would never darken the streets of his province again. Hyland's war is over. Leave the battle with Elympios to the rest of the world. They did their part. Yet as viscera zigzags through the cobblestones of Lhant Port, Asbel can't help but feel the war claw at their doors again. "
Relationships: Alisha Diphda/Rose, Asbel Lhant/Richard Windor, Asch the Bloody/Natalia Kimlasca-Lanvaldear, Cheria Barnes/Asbel Lhant, Jade Curtiss/Peony Upala Malkuth IX, Jude Mathis/Milla Maxwell, Mikleo/Sorey (Tales of Zestiria), Such as: - Relationship, Various Ambiguous Pairings, Yuri Lowell/Flynn Scifo
Series: Tales of Mash Up: Tales of Alharis [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746535
Comments: 38
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Man, this was a long time coming, right? It took almost a year to plan. This is my Tales of Mash Up project that I've been posting about since I finished Tales of Vesperia. Keep in mind this will be 4 to 5 parts all with multiple, long chapters. So if you don't see your favorite characters listed, they will likely appear in some capacity throughout this entire project. Also my apologies for people would would like to see anything from before Tales of the Abyss. At the time of writing this, I didn't have any access to flagship titles before Abyss even through Steam because my debit card got stolen. It also seemed really disingenuous to lay a game strictly to add it to the project, it wouldn't be fair to you if I was just treating the games as a means to an end and my heart wasn't in it. Unlike most fans of the series, I didn't discover these games until I was well into my 20s and they helped me through some of the worst years of my life. So this is my tribute to them. I hope I can do them justice with this slightly darker take on the series.

There hasn't been a murder in Lhant in over a decade. Asbel swore that as long as he is Lord of Lhant, blood would never darken the streets of his province again. Hyland's war is over. Leave the battle with Elympios to the rest of the world. They did their part. Yet as viscera zigzags through the cobblestones of Lhant Port, Asbel can't help but feel the war claw at their doors again. It's very Small Town to round up a posse, but the show of power puts people at ease. Prayers of thanks and relief just float by him. The body is only covered by a sheet. Even with the clouds looming thick overhead, there's enough light to catch the shine of wet gore not just on the ground but splattered on nearby windows. A few Lhant Guardsmen bow – a motion he's never really cared for – as he approaches the body. Couching down, Asbel bends his head in prayer for the woman's departed soul. The Guardsmen follow, having forgotten to pay their respects amid the pandemonium. A moment of steely silence later, Asbel gently lifts the shroud to see the still, wide eyed face of Victoria Bell – former major in the Windor Army and infamous Town Shrew - staring back. 

She was a miserable curse of a woman. If she showed up at your door, you're sentenced to seven years bad luck. Asbel has heaps of petitions from her: anything from banning children from playing with toys within 50ft of her house or requesting that guards not greet people when they passed her in the street. Apparently, it isn't their job to be friendly. He served with her in the war. Her merciless training routines are legendary. Gods forbid you mess up; her ridicule was also mythical. She got married after the war but was so terrible to the poor man that he left Lhant and all his money to get away from her. Since then Asbel, his wife Cheria and all her neighbors tried to reach out to her but they were always rejected. 

Still, no one deserves to be slaughtered in the street. 

“The former major approached the murderer first. We'd received complaints about her being particularly aggressive with refugees and immigrants.” Captain Bailey says. Asbel vaguely recalls a petition for “outsiders” to be “immediately identifiable”, claiming that she and her neighbors were being watched. He gently closes the older woman's eyes and examines the body. “There was a brief altercation. Witnesses that were close enough say Bell pulled a knife on her.” That checks out. “Otherwise, the murderer retaliates almost immediately and...” He gestures to the grisly scene. She's slashed right across the middle as if by a giant claw. The murderer stuck decisively, knowing that one blow would be enough. No weapon can cause such a wound. An arte this powerful would take time to cast. 

“Where's the killer now?” Asbel asks. 

“She's being held in the prison but, I'll be honest...I don't think it will hold her if she decides to escape.” Bailey admits. 

“You did great bringing her in.” Asbel says reassuringly. Bailey disagrees,

“She surrendered and demanded to speak with “whoever is in charge of this town”. And she has refused legal or religious counsel since.” Asbel takes this in for a moment. Victoria had been quiet the last week or so and he hadn't received any complaints from or about her. Until now, all refugees from the war have been peaceful, willing to work for any sum and desperate to get the Amarcian Enclave, but the killer had asked about what ships were going to Strahta. That doesn't add up considering they have been rejecting passports and confiscating visas.

“Thank you, Bailey. Tell Hubert to meet me at the prison. Major Victoria didn't have any living family and no one knows where her husband is, I’ll speak with the Shepherd.” He says. Bailey nods and sets off. The guards and a few dockmen clean up the blood and Asbel helps load the body onto the cart. On their way to the chapel, children stop in their playing to pray; merchants bow their heads and anyone who served in the war salutes. The cart driver stops briefly at the major's house. Her front door is already covered with Lhant Hill’s famous flowers. 

“Do you want to grab some of her effects Lord Asbel?” The driver asks. He considers it but looks at its stark facade and drawn black velvet curtains, Asbel can't help but feel like it's a little too soon. Best to let everyone in town pay their respects and bring their flowers. He'll search the house when the overpowering scent dies down.

There's a pall in the air. Hyland has avoided the Imperial War for ten years. They defeated Fendel, they've done their part. But that doesn't change the fact that Hyland sits on the edge of Chaos.

They reach the chapel and Cheria is already there with their daughter, Sophie. Wherever they are, he's home. Seeing them usually makes everything okay, but not even his wife and daughter can stop the ominous sinking in his gut. Cheria is six months pregnant. What kind of father can he be if he can't protect his child?

“Please take her inside.” Cheria says to the driver. Asbel doesn’t see the Shepherd anywhere.

“Where’s Sorey?” He asks. 

“He’s inside, but he’s not feeling well. Lady Kerri’s with him now.” Cheria admits. 

“Not again...” Asbel replies, shaking his head. Cheria looks back to Asbel. His downcast expression tugs at her heart. She touches his cheek gently but he can't quite meet her eyes. 

“Hey, look at me.” She says gently. Reluctantly, he listens. “No one blames you.” She says quietly. He knows. That doesn't make it any less of a failure. “We'll talk later alright?” She gives him a kiss and goes to carry out her duty as Lady of Lhant. It usually falls to Cheria or his mother to carry out funeral duties when there's no family present. Their daughter stays behind, however, gazing up at him trying to comprehend what she just saw. 

“Asbel?” She asks. “Are you sad?” Sophie isn't very expressive in the best of times but is still sensitive to those around her. Still, moments like these are still hard to understand. 

“Yeah, I'm sad.” He says with a weary sigh. “Major Victoria was a part of this town. Even if she was mean, she didn't deserve to die that way. No one does.” Sophie seems to accept the information. 

“Who killed her?” She asks. 

“I'm afraid I don't know her name yet. Hubert and I are going to ask her though. We don't know why she did it.” Asbel answers. “But she'll be brought to justice.” Sophie just cocks her head curiously. 

“Are you going to _avenge_ Major Victoria?” Asbel chokes.

“No, no I mean...she's going to be put on trial and we'll decide what to do with her.” Sophie isn't satisfied with the explanation. “And her sentence will be up to Hubert.” _What a cop out_. Sophie frowns as she watches the cart disappear behind the chapel. “What's wrong, Sophie?”

“We hurt a lot of people like that.” She says. “When we were fighting in the war. People died.” her innocent observations are worse than a stab wound. It's been ten years. They have to talk about this sooner or later. He's raised her to live among humans so it makes sense that she has some trouble grasping human concepts but they put talk of the war away and focused on peace and progress. There's plenty of the latter to distract them from the horrors of Fendel and it's Mechanical City. He sighs and sits her back down on the bench.

“Sophie...back then we were defending ourselves and defending our home...they were ready to battle us to the death and we had to be prepared to do the same or we'd lose.” Asbel says gently. “Major Victoria's killer attacked someone in cold blood.” He wonders if that counts as lying. The Major did have a knife on her person, after all.

“The Captain told me that those people were too sick to get better.” Sophie adds. Asbel nods. 

“Yeah, some of them were sick with Daemonblight. It's what happens when all the Eleth in your body goes bad.” He's explained this to her before but she always struggles to grasp the concept. She places a hand on her chest, trying to think of how her body would feel without any Eleth. It must be hard for a Malak to understand since her body is practically made of it. “But that can only happen when there's a lot of Malevolence around.”

“And Malevolence is only around when there's no Eleth.” Sophie hangs on to that fact like a security blanket. “And there's lots here.” 

“Yeah, you can even see bits of it in the sea.” Asbel replies. 

“Is the killer from somewhere else? Is she sick?” Sophie asks. A new, horrifying thought dawns on Asbel. 

“She very well could be.” He replies grimly. “And Daemonblight isn't something you can cure easily.” It doesn't matter. Major Victoria's murderer will be sentenced to death.

“Will we be _brought to justice_ too?” Sophie asks. Dear Maxwell, he is _not equipped_ for this line of questioning. When he hesitates Sophie thinks he wants her to elaborate. “ _We_ killed people. Sick people. That's bad.” Asbel considers this and Sophie's bright, curious eyes burn into his soul.

“It _is_ bad.” Asbel says levelly. He laughs bitterly at himself. “You've asked me a very hard question, Sophie.” She doesn't care. “Everything we went through after the war, everything that happened with Richard and with Lhant...maybe _that's_ our justice.” He decides to be honest with her. A father should be _honest_ with his child. “I don't know.” He says. “I really don't know.” But he gazes at her, smiling. These moments can be hard but he has to admit she's come such a long way. “But I do know that you are a good person and that I'm a good person. So are Cheria and Hubert. This town is full of good, civilized people. Good people do good things. I definitely see more good in this town than bad.” Sophie thinks for a moment and gazes down the road as if they have the view of the town from here. She smiles and Asbel holds back a sigh of relief. 

“I see more good too.” She says. She looks up at her adopted father and hugs him tightly. “I see lots of good things.” Asbel finds himself holding Sophie for just a little too long. Blood or not, it's his duty – his _purpose_ – to protect his family and this town. They will live the lives they deserve. Sophie will never have to fight again. 

“You two okay?” Cheria asks, having returned. Wow, they must've been talking for longer than they thought because Cheria has not only left the chapel but changed back into her usual clothes. She's not so pregnant where she snuggles to do things on her own but she knows those days are coming. She's been in good health for most of her pregnancy; Asbel can't help but note her beautiful glow. 

“Yeah, I was just helping Sophie understand what's happened.” Asbel says. A simple explanation though he feels like he's just cheated death. He gets to his feet and Sophie follows. The chapel's cart driver meets them at the road. “I'm going to meet Hubert at the prison, we'll need to interrogate the killer.” 

“Isn't that dangerous?” Cheria asks. “You'll give her exactly what she wants.” 

“That's true but what choice do we have? If she's from somewhere like Malkuth, then this might be the only way to get her to talk. There has to be a reason for all this.” Asbel says though a part of him really believes she acted in cold blood. “I want to search The Major's house when we get the chance, but not until Sorey’s feeling better. He’ll need to bless it. Besides, she might've had a will or something.” Asbel helpsh Cheria and Sophie board the cart.

“There's nothing unusual about the body,” Cheria notes. “Although...” Cheria trails off as they pass by the former major's home, the amount of flowers has doubled filling the nearby streets with their overwhelming fragrance. Others sit at the house praying. “I wonder if she would've been nicer if she knew everyone would miss her so much.” 

The prison is all the way on the other side of town but Hubert walked here alone to collect his thoughts. It's a small place made of stone meant to keep minor criminals in for a few hours to a few months. They send major offenders to the capitol, Windor. A weaker part of him just wants to file the necessary paperwork to get the killer commuted. But what kind of lords would they be if they just shoved their problems onto the king? The Lhants are nothing if not effective leaders. Besides, Richard has his own problems. He spots the cart rolling up. He gives a nod to Cheria and Sophie and waits for Asbel to kiss his goodbyes before joining him at the door. 

“Hey Hubert.” Asbel says casually. _Too casually._

“Hey yourself,” Hubert says, crossing his arms. He gives his brother a once over. “Gods, Cheria really just lets you walk around however you like, doesn't she?” He asks rhetorically. Without asking for permission, he straightens Asbel's collar and roughly dusts off Asbel's white overcoat. He even picks at his hair second, much to his dismay. “I would've thought she would've talked some sense into after all these years.” Hubert served his time in the Strahtan Military and alongside Asbel during the war. Asbel is the personable one, if he's the one that has to look intimidating and official then so be it. 

“You're giving me too much credit.” Asbel says just letting Hubert do what he likes. “Has she said anything?” 

“No,” Hubert said. “We checked for Spirix Exposure and we found a little bit under her fingernails but that's about it.” He's questioned war criminals, human traffickers and killers before Strahta seceded from Hyland. But having something like this happen in their town just feels _wrong_. Strahta was tainted by Malevolence, so was Fendel and even parts of Windor. They took a horrendous beating during the hostilities but Lhant is pure and full of eleth. “Shall we?” He says. Asbel doesn't feel prepared so he lets Hubert lead the way. 

The prison is silent but quaking with fear. Their small collection of pretty thieves and ruffians sit in terrified silence. They gaze at Hubert and Asbel pleadingly as they walk through the short corridor of cells. Guards try to stand at attention but even they seem unable to keep themselves from dreading the young woman behind that cell door. 

The interrogation room is nothing like Strahta's. There are no truth artes, no runes on the walls shining relentlessly into the prisoner's eyes. There isn't even a way for anyone to listen in case of a threat. Hubert just has to put his faith in the latch holding the young murderer's chains to the ground. Before they enter, Hubert turns to Asbel. 

“If her hands get free, act at will.” Asbel gets the message. Hubert doesn't wait for the anxiety to sink in and unlocks the door. 

By all means, the young lady sitting at the table is entirely unremarkable. Long black hair, skin tanned by hard field work, casual posture and ragged clothes. He could easily mistake her for your average ship hand. He notes her golden eyes are just like Sorey’s. She must be of Gandese descent. Hubert sits, but Asbel decides to stay standing. He rounds the room, standing directly behind her. He almost draws his sword but there’s no need to threaten her life. Yet.

“State your name.” Hubert requests.

“Velvet Crowe.” Her accent eliminates aggression by the Elympion War effort, but it raises a whole host of other questions. 

“Velvet Crowe? Are you serious?” Hubert asks.

“Would I be here if I wasn’t?” _Velvet_ replies. Hubert glances at Asbel but then goes back to the parchment in front of him.

“You expect me to believe that you - a murderer, I might add - are Velvet Crowe?” It’s not a question. The killer merely smirks and leans back.

“ _Sister_ Velvet Crowe,” She chides. 

“How _dare_ you.” Asbel growls. His need for justice makes his fingers itch for his sword. He could cut off her head right now, but that wouldn’t be proper justice for Major Victoria or the people of Lhant. “Sister Crowe died in service of…”

“Asbel,” Hubert warns. That’s all he needs to ground himself and he unwinds his hand from his hilt. “Well, Sister Crowe, praytell what brings you here to our fair city and to cause such a stir, no less?”

“I was a crew member on a trade vessel called the Fiertia. On an ill-advised trip to Outer Malkuth, we were caught up in a skirmish. The Fiertia was completely destroyed. Some of my crew survived but we couldn't all escape Malkuth at once. Some were detained and their information confiscated.” Hubert writes a few things down. “I made it here in exchange for work aboard a Windorian military vessel.”

“How long did this take you?” Hubert asks.

“About four months.” Velvet replies. “Travel is unexpectedly expensive in Windor. I'd hoped to find work here in Lhant until I'm able to afford the trip home.” Velvet sits back as far as her chains will let her. She can't see the taller lord behind her but she knows he's a man of action; made of earth and toil. People like him are always the easiest to fool. Unfortunately, his brother is not so easily convinced. 

“That was all very neatly rehearsed,” Hubert states simply. “I'm almost impressed that you managed to come up with such an unconvincing lie. Because if you’re actually Sister Crowe, I’d say being dead for ten years is a long enough time to come up with a more believable story.” Asbel's heart sinks. It's a good thing Hubert is here. He must stay calm. Rest assured, this criminal will be brought to justice honorably. “Why don't you tell us why you're really here?” Hubert says. “I have our Shepherd’s notes on the body. The former major's death was quick, but painful. As if sliced by a giant claw. Witnesses say they saw a large shadow and then blood.” There's a pause. Then the room goes cold. “If you've brought Malevolence into this province, you _will_ die for it,” Hubert declares in a dark whisper. 

“There's Malevolence here.” Velvet remains undaunted. “But I didn't bring it.” She takes their shocked silence as a sign to continue. “All I’ve been doing is trying to get to Gand. My vessel was scuppered off the coast of Malkuth, but that was some time ago.” She says. “I was looking for work when I felt it. A great big hole, right in the middle of your sleepy little town.” Asbel's heart jumps from his stomach to his throat. 

“That's impossible.” Hubert says with a roll of his eyes. He looks to Asbel for confirmation but he gets nothing in return. Velvet tries not to smirk. “There haven't been reports of Malevolence in the area, yes?” His hesitation speaks louder than any answer he could give. “ _Asbel_.” 

“Only on the Fendelian Border,” Asbel says just as gravely. “But...” _Gods_ ...this must be why Sophie asked all those strange questions. He's been so wrapped up in the progress she'd been making. With the news of Cheria's pregnancy, she moved on from the war. She started a garden. She's watching Cheria cook. She finally has the chance to be a child. _Their daughter_ . She's been so _normal_ . He didn't even think her questions were strange. It's something any girl with her experiences would ask. Sometimes, he forgets that he's not a normal little girl. He should've known something was wrong. Hyland's war is over. _His_ war is over. He will not suffer Malevolence in this town, not where his wife, brother and children sleep. Without thinking, he wrenches Velvet's chair back forcing her to face him. “Where.” It's not a question.

“I was headed North before she tried to stop me.” She hardly blinks in the face of his anger. “I was told that the road I was on is a straight shot to her house.” Asbel doesn't need to hear anymore and dashes out of the room. Hubert tries to run after him as his brother cries “Bailey!” in the courtyard. “ _Wait_ ,” Velvet says. It's not her fault the older brother left in a panic. If the younger lord is as smart as she thinks, he'll stay. 

Reluctantly, Hubert closes the door and prays that Asbel keeps a cool head. He wills him to think of Cheria and the people around him. He can't cause a panic in this town off of pure conjecture. Hubert has seen a lot of liars in his time. Some of them bargain, beg and even cry. This so-called Velvet Crowe hasn't even blinked. In fact, he'd even go as far as to say that she's not entirely human. Why would she even come here? Clearly, she didn't intend to be caught but she'll use the situation to her advantage. Hubert feels the hot lick of fear up his spine as he realizes that perhaps whatever she's searching for is beyond her. To his shame, he would've never have believed her had she petitioned him like every other citizen. 

“Come here. I want you to see something.” She says nodding him over. She's not surprised when he doesn't budge. Good thing he's smarter than his brother. “Look on the back of my right shoulder.” Hubert only vaguely notes that she flinches at his cold hands. He moves her threadbare collar down just far enough to see. 

He’s seen this mark once before: Two symmetrical prongs with a circle in the middle emphasizing the separation between the two energies. Sorey has the same brand on his hand. He keeps it covered at all times. However, Velvet’s brand is horribly misshapen. Clearly, a botch job led to red discoloration past her collar and down her back beyond his sight. Such scarring can only be caused by a extensive infection. If he had to guess, he’d say that her entire arm is disfigured considering that it’s wrapped firmly in bandages. Sympathy pains won't cloud his judgment. 

“What about it?” 

“Check the body. If it has this mark, then it's not Victoria Bell. It's a demon.” Velvet says. Hubert frowns. He can tell just by the sound of her voice that they're going to find it. 

“What does that mean? Do you know what’s coming?” Hubert asks leaning against the table. Velvet leans back. She looks back to Hubert. The Little Brother Lord clearly loves this town just as much as the other one but he's barely restrained by reason. She has no reason to help these people. She could very well let them be consumed by the Malevolence planted here and she could feed off of the spreading disease until she’s strong enough to take on Gand’s entire theocracy. It’s the ideal course of action, however, it doesn’t guarantee survival. If left alone, the Malevolence will turn this whole town into daemons. She can’t fight them all by herself. 

“Have you ever heard of the Scarlet Night?”

“Scarlet Nights only happen in the complete absence of Eleth in the air.” Hubert responds. “It creates a hole in the Aquasphere which alters the reflection of light.” Velvet has to admit she might be outmatched on intellect. “I served in the war with Fendel, I've seen it.” He says dismissively. “What about it?” 

“They haven't just happened in Fendel, but in Kimlasca, Malkuth...” Hubert snorts in disgust. “Even Gand.” That takes him by surprise. She sees the wheels turning. Gand brims with Eleth. It's where Malaks, Seraphim and Spirits are born. Their artes are as powerful and unyielding as nature itself. Not even Fendel's Spirix could consume that much Eleth. “If you're not careful, this town is next on that list.”

“Prove it,” He demands.

“All you have is my word,” Velvet replies. With her hands bound in chains, she can't do much. They would've killed her if they didn't believe her. Even better, if Malevolence had already taken hold of this town, they wouldn't have cared that she killed the Therion posing as this “Major Victoria”. She wonders what might've happened if she sent in one of those “petitions” the taller lord mentioned. Nobles are so stupid; so obsessed with following the rules. She never intended to get caught, but she'll use these peoples' quaint sense of purpose to her advantage. “By the way, has your shepherd been feeling well lately?” Hubert feels panic claw up his spine. Velvet luxuriates in her good luck. The Little Brother Lord can't stomach that all-knowing smirk any longer and he sweeps out of the cell with barred teeth. He ignores the calls of the guard sitting outside of the cell. 

“Stay here.” He commands them. “If she so much as rattles those chains, _kill her_.” With that, Hubert tears down the hall. Finally alone, Velvet smells the fear around her. The human in her sympathizes. All it takes is a night to upend your entire life. She's lived through more of those nights than what ought to be healthy. The demon in her delights in watching them scurry about like rats, scared of their own shadows. If the lords die tonight, this town will tear itself apart with fear and distrust.

This day has not gone to plan. When she made her way to the Malevolence source this morning, she didn't expect that someone was looking for her as well. The bloodlust got to her before common sense did. She dealt with the other Therion swiftly but ended up getting caught. She considered making them chase her. She could've killed them all. But she needs to make it to Gand alive, not hunted. 

Be smart. Stay alive. These chains can't hold her. The Little Brother Lord clearly knew that but was willing to stay in the room alone with her. He's smarter than his brother. She will do anything and use anyone to make it to Eastgand. She estimates her cell will be full of guards and questions in about two hours time. She might as well rest while she can. So she sits back and dreams of the salty air soon to grace her face and the sound of her shipmates singing to the sound of the waves

_Fifteen Men on a Dead Man's Chest_

_Yohoho and a bottle of rum_

_Drink and the Devil had done for the rest_

_Yohoho and a bottle of rum_

Hubert never gets the chance to catch up with Asbel since he’s already tearing through the city on horseback. Bailey managed to grab an aging nag from the barracks. They know they can’t incite panic but Asbel’s gut twists at the thought of Malevolence sprouting up in his town. He could call on Richard and ask for help but, King or not he can’t rely on his old friend forever. This is _his_ Province. These are _his_ people he will defend and take care of them. He grips his father’s sword, relying on it to keep him upright. If his old man could see him now, he'd be ashamed. There’s a possibility that Crowe just wants to spare her life but he can’t take _any_ chances. Malak like Sophie are so sensitive to Malevolence. He can’t risk her getting sick again. 

The wind picks up. The overpowering scent of flowers hits him before he even approaches the house. Petals dance in the gusting winds. He fully expects Lhant Hill to be barren next time he makes a trip to the outer settlements. He spares a glance at the sky. A storm is coming. Good. This will give Victoria's mourners a reason to stay in their homes without the guards making a fuss. He forces himself to greet them calmly but there are still a few people lingering at the front door: her neighbors, Geno to her right and the twins from the left side; Misty and Mason. Mason, the shyer of the twins seems particularly shaken. He spoke to Victoria this morning. Geno sits in his usual chair outside his granddaughter's home, more guard dog than man. He notes the large hunting knife concealed on the man’s belt. Asbel hasn’t seen that thing in ages. Not only has Geno been old since Asbel was born, but the man can hardly walk without his cane these days. His granddaughter won’t let him live alone. Still, he understands. 

Asbel's first concern is Mason. The boy has never been particularly brave or remarkable. He was only five when Fendel surrendered even younger when his father died. Hard to believe the twins are old enough to work on the docks now. The boy was brought up well and taught to greet every familiar face he sees. Major Victoria never liked him.

“Mason.” The boy jumps like he’s been scolded. “Have you two been out here all day?” Asbel asks, noting their sunburns.

“Yes sir.” Misty answers for her brother. “The house feels weird still,” She admits. The hair stands up on the back of his neck. Malevolence spreads. “We spoke to Major Victoria not six hours ago. Usually she ignores us or says something nasty but she just...waved. We thought maybe she was just being nice for once. It's been a while since she's come out of the house anyway.” Misty all but repeats the witness statement she gave this morning and it still vexes him. Malevolence makes people cruel and distrustful, not _kinder_. 

“Is...is the killer in jail, Lord Asbel?” Mason asks. He can't tell him that he's here under her advice. So he conjures up a smile for the boy and pats his shoulder.

“Yeah, she's behind bars and she can't hurt anyone now.” He can't tell the poor kid that he's here under her advice. “If you two don't want to sleep here tonight, I'm sure Cheria can make arrangements for you at Lhant Manor. We want you to feel safe.” The twins glance at each other. They clearly need time to think. Their house might feel strange but sleeping in familiar surroundings is a luxury few have these days. Plus, he should talk to Hubert and Cheria before making any executive decisions. Thunder rolls overhead. He can hear the waves splashing against the wharf from where they're standing. There’s a storm coming on. He motions Bailey over. “We need to announce a curfew. Everyone off the streets before 8pm tonight. Even the dock workers.” Bailey tries not to gasp and nods slowly. “Wait here.” Asbel doesn't need keys to open the door. Clearing the mass of blooms and leaves away from the front stoop, he kicks open the door.

The first thing Asbel sees is the mess. Major Victoria's house is only for one person. It's cozy but lavishly decorated. However, all of those fancy paintings and knickknacks have been thrown to the floor. If he had to take a guess, he'd say that the major was looking for something. None of her neighbors reported a commotion. Carpets are a rare luxury, but they are ripped from the floor. The thick velvet curtains blot out all the light. Asbel steps into the house to light the nearest lamp but as he does so, the floral scents from outside instantly fade. There's nothing but a disgusting rancid smell. There's a loud retch from behind him. He whips around to find that Mason has followed him in. “Go stay with Bailey.” Asbel says sternly. Mason isn't the type to ask questions and make an about face outside. 

The first thing he notices is the floorboards in the far corner are pulled up. That must've been the hiding place for Major Bell’s strongbox because it's completely pilfered. The house has been completely ransaked. Anything that could be seen as valuable has been either ripped from it's frame or completely rifled through. But the major only left her house _this morning_. He runs a ran through his hair and ties a his wife's handkerchief over his nose. 

There's a corpse in this house.

There's a small commotion outside, but Asbel can't be distracted now. He searches through the sitting room, dining room and kitchen. All he finds is the destroyed house, a half eaten breakfast and testaments to the lonely life of a shut in. Major Victoria deserved better than this. The smell drags him into the bedroom. The lamp doesn't reach here, but there's a crack of light shining through the door. Cursing, Asbel hesitates.

Everything Sister Crowe’s Imposter told them could be a lie. There's always a chance that she's a murderer trying to plan her escape. Not that there are many places to hide in a small town like Lhant. What he sees in this room could prove her right. Gods damnit. Everything was fine until this woman – _outsider_ – wandered into their midst like a curse. They haven't used the gallows in decades. He might make an exception. However, if there really is Malevolence here, they might have to give her a commendation instead. Just what message will that send to his people? Misty and Mason are starting to make a commotion outside. He should hurry and get them to a safe place. He opens the door to find a fly and maggot infested body.

Major Victoria died tucked safely in her bed. This is where she should’ve been safest. Her death at Lhant Port is horrible enough. But to have this happen in town, _right under his nose._ She’s been here for _days._ Victoria might’ve been a bitter harridan but she doesn't deserve this. She's still a part of this town, one of _his_ people. He should’ve been able to protect her. Her eyes are closed. She was killed in her sleep. Totally defenseless. 

He approaches the body carefully. There's a deep hole in her forehead. He makes the mistake of trying to turn her over but whatever made the hole went through the back of her skull and scrambled everything on it’s way through. Gore and bone spill onto the bed. Asbel’s stomach roils traitorously. There is no arte that can make this kind of wound. He’s only seen this _once_ before in Fendel. They called it a “firearm”, a gift from their Elympion allies. The bullet in its high powered chamber was so fast, it went through Captain Malik’s chest out of his back. 

He needs to find that weapon. Victoria Bell's imposter only had a knife on her when she was killed. It's warm today. She wasn't wearing any layers. So a firearm would attract too much attention out in broad daylight. She could've disposed of it, but Asbel figures that it couldn't hurt to search just in case. He can't stay here for long. If there really is a hole full of Malevolence under this house, he's at just as much risk as anyone else. He starts opening drawers and turning over whatever hasn't been rifled through. He's invading a lady's privacy. He wouldn't be surprised if the body in the bed turned over. There's no weapon in the bedroom. However when he finds himself back in the sitting room, he thinks back to the floorboards wrenched out of place. It's the easiest hiding spot in this mess. Everything else has been turned over. Coastal towns only have stone foundations; there are no cellars here. So when he looks in the space left by the floorboards, there's nothing but masonry underneath. Luckily, he spots a wrapped bundle at the bottom of the supposedly empty strongbox. The wrapping is the same color as the box's lining, he would've missed it entirely had he not bent down.

Hubert needs to see this.

Outside, four stares greet Asbel with varying degrees of impatience. Misty opens her mouth to ask what's in his hand but Mason stops her. Geno glares at the bundle in Asbel's hand. Their gazes burn the back of Asbel's head as he takes Bailey by the elbow and leads him out of earshot. Bailey tries to ask him what's happened but Asbel hands him the weapon. Firearms are such small things yet they can end lives in a single “bang”. They were Fendel's weapon of choice. When they surrendered, Hyland collected all of them and melted them down to assist with the Amarcian Enclave's inception. Just looking at this thing, Asbel knows it's newer and therefore more deadly. 

“Take this to Lhant Manor.” Bailey tries to stay calm. Asbel never speaks so gravely. “ _Do not_ stop for anyone and _do not_ let anyone see this. Gather the rest of the Militia and tell them to initiate Windor Protocol. Once you're done, meet me at the chapel. Understood?” Bailey clicks his heels together and salutes, a gesture he hasn't done since the war. Asbel fights the lump in his throat. This area needs to be quarantined. He turns back to the civilians. The twins might be children but they're smart enough to be terrified.

“What happened?” Misty asks, this time Mason doesn't stop her. “What did you find?” 

“Go inside and pack your things.” Asbel looks back to Geno. “All of you.” He turns back to the twins. “I don't think it's safe for you to stay in the house tonight. We'll send word to your mother that you're spending the night in Lhant Manor. In the morning, we'll send you to the Amarcian Enclave to be with her. I don't want you around here alone.” Asbel turns to Geno. “And your family will be staying with us too. I know it's short notice, but we have enough room for the both of you to stay with us.” There's an innocent pause and then,

“No.” 

“Geno, this is no time to be stubborn.” Asbel struggles to keep the urgency out of his voice. It won't do any good to incite panic but time is short. Geno hasn't aged well, it's natural for him to be stubborn but there’s no time. Asbel nearly considers using his sword to urge the old man along but he's not that kind of Lord. He opens his mouth to say more until Geno's granddaughter, Livy, comes to the front door. Perhaps she could sense the tension. Asbel doesn't bother speaking to Geno a second time. “Sorry, Liv, I know it's short notice but we're going to need you to pack up and take the kids to the manor. We need to investigate this area further. We don't want the kids to see it if we can help it.” It's not a lie but there's another moment of steely silence as Livy sizes him up.They served together as knights. She trusts him with her life. He wouldn't just up and have them relocate without a good reason.

“Okay, I'll have them ready in a minute.” Livy takes her grandfather by the arm. “Come on, Granddad.” Geno doesn't budge. “Granddad.” 

“We're fine here.” Geno repeats. 

“Look, if Asbel says it's time for us to go, then we should listen.” Livy protests irritably. She glances at Asbel pleadingly. “It's only for a night, right?” She asks.

“I can't promise that.” Asbel says darkly. Livy opens her mouth to protest but something in his voice makes her close it back. This isn't the time to argue. Someone died today. She won't put her kids in needless danger over a change of scenery. Livy shouts into the house and her husband shouts an affirmative back. The children don't understand but they do as they are told. The children aren't the hard part. Her grandfather is more mule than man. 

“Let's go, Granddad.” Livy pulls insistently. Geno is stubborn but he's also frail. She can lift both her children over her shoulders and yet her grandfather can't be moved. She looks to Asbel for help. 

“Geno, look...” Asbel's sudden lordly demeanor gives Livy pause. She never heard him speak like this before. “You can't stay here. There's...” He hesitates. “...there's something bad underneath the Major's house. We need to investigate it and we can't – won't – do it with your grandchildren around.” Asbel shakes his head. Geno is a relic of Lhant. Relics deserve respect. “I'm sorry, but it's not a request. Pack your things and be ready in ten minutes.” 

“I'll help him.” Mason suddenly appears at Asbel's side. Misty scrambles out of their house with bulging, badly packed suitcases. Asbel almost considers telling them to go ahead but he doesn't want them walking alone. He should've brought more guards than just Bailey. 

“Okay, fine. Just make it quick.” Asbel says, stepping aside. Geno frowns at Mason. 

“Get away from me.” Geno never sounds so firm. Livy and Mason take a step back. but Asbel reaches out and touches Geno's shoulder. The old man tenses and gazes down at Asbel's hand like it’s cursed him.

“Listen, it's only for a little while...just until - ” 

“Stop!” Suddenly, Asbel reels back. A hot splash of blood hits his face. The ground hits the back of his head and the world splits. Screams echo in his broken head. Something soft, warm but heavy lands on top of him. Asbel's instincts know it's a body before his brain does. His vision focuses to see Mason's bloody, split neck and his wide, lifeless eyes. Misty's screams cut through the concussion. Blood streams down the back of his neck. Livy grabs him. He let's her drag him to his feet and Misty scrambles over to her brother's body and cradles him. Her screaming sobs bring him to the sight of Livy's husband wrestling Geno to the ground. He bangs the old man’s wrist against the nearest surface, desperate to knock the hunting knife from his hands. There's no way Geno can overpower a man in his prime but in a flash, Geno rolls him over and stabs him like a pin cushion in full view of his granddaughter and great-grandchildren. Asbel and Livy can't pull him off until the fifth stab. Geno lets out an unholy screech. 

“What's wrong with you?!” Livy screams. Motherly instinct wins over horrified bewilderment and she plants herself in the doorway over her husband's corpse. The commotion draws people out of their houses. Geno throws Asbel off and his vision doubles. He blindly tackles the old man. He's slashed in the chest and cries out as he’s stabbed. The Militia Watchtower bells start to ring, shaking Asbel's addled sight even more. Livy loops her arms under her grandfather's. She has to hold him in place until the Militia comes. She has to protect her children. She has to help Asbel. She has to...

Livy flies backward. Her head hits the cobblestones so hard her neck bends and stays that way. Someone screams again. He has to end this. His vision can't focus. He doesn't know where Mason's blood begins and his blood ends. A sick smile splits Geno's face. The old man jerks forward. Asbel's brain screams. The Lord in him doesn't want to draw his sword. The lord wants to believe that Geno can be subdued. But there's a baser half that wants to survive. He picks one and grabs his sword. A flash erupts from his scabbard and it hits the old man with prejudice as he slashes him across his chest.

Geno’s body collapses into bloody pieces. The adrenaline leaves Asbel all at once. His wounds buckle his knees. He stares down at his hands. What a selfish decision. He doesn’t know whose blood this is. His? Mason’s? His father’s? Dizziness doesn’t let him think about it. The world pitches and tilts. He stumbles forward into a firm pair of arms. The tinney ringing in his ears overwhelms his brother’s voice shouting at him. He can’t answer. Cheria’s going to be so disappointed. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I did not expect the response I received on the first chapter. Thank you so much! Once again: please mind the tags.

The Watchtower Bells ring until everyone is either in their homes or the nearest shelter. With his wounds, Asbel won’t make it to the chapel. Hubert tries to comprehend the slaughter he just witnessed. It’s a page right out of Fendel’s war book. Asbel could never draw his sword against someone of Lhant, and yet. At the sound of Asbel’s labored breathing, Hubert pushes the frantic thoughts from his mind. He carries his bleeding brother on horseback to Lhant Manor as fast as the old nag can go. Bailey’s already outside. Horror stops his frantic pacing. He runs to help Hubert get Asbel off of the horse. He stops himself from asking what happened. Right now, they need to focus on getting help. They peel off his bloody white coat and leave it in the courtyard grass. 

“Cheria! Sophie!” Cheria is in Asbel's study when she hears Hubert call from the front door. Her brother-in-law’s voice runs ragged with desperation. She’s instantly spurred to her feet and running with Sophie hot on her heels. Her heart seizes with dread at the sight of her gravely wounded husband. 

“Sophie, bring the palette and a sheet right now.” She says. Their little Malak runs like a flash of lightning. She’s so fast that she’s back with both items as soon as they bring Asbel and his trail of blood into the office. They can clean it later. Cheria’s hands shake. She feels tears bead in her eyes but she wills herself to stay calm. Asbel’s had  _ worse _ . She’s  _ healed _ worse. But there is nothing  _ worse  _ than seeing the one you love most suffer. She doesn’t even know what’s happened. “Hubert, I need bandages.” He follows orders and runs upstairs. “Bailey, Sorey is already on his way here, but go out and meet him halfway. If the Watchtower bells are ringing, he could be in trouble.” Bailey nods and runs outside. “Sophie, you’re with me. Are you ready?” 

“Will Asbel be okay?” Sophie asks. Her voice is flat as ever, but her eyes always give away her fear. 

“If we do this properly, he will be.” Cheria replies. She feels a tear slip down her cheek as she smiles. She’s scared too. Both of them place their hands on Asbel and his body starts to glow. She prays to their Patron God Maxwell. She watched Asbel take so many beatings over the years. Shot, stabbed, burned, and slashed; but she helps him get back up everytime. Cheria is more of a field medic than a doctor but by Maxwell, she’s saved her husband’s life  _ countless times  _ and she’ll do it  _ countless times _ more. The blood starts to recede a little. However, she can’t heal his head wounds without more help. Asbel’s eyes flutter open just a little but they’re glassy and unseeing. Her heart tries to leap into her throat but she tamps it down. As long as Sorey gets here on time, Asbel will be fine. And Sorey is  _ always _ on time. 

As if on cue, the Shepherd barrels into the room, disheveled and pale with Bailey behind him. Running all the way here can’t possibly be good for a man in his condition but Bailey couldn’t stop him. Sorey takes Sophie by the shoulders, smiling gently. “I can take it from here.” He says.

“Asbel needs help.” Sophie replies insistently and doesn’t move an inch. Sorey isn’t bothered.

“I know, but you’ve seen me fix him before, right?” Sophie nods slowly. “And he was all better?” The young Malak nods again. “I can do that again but I need to sit in your spot.” She seems to understand but she hesitates before she gets to her feet. She attaches herself to Hubert once he comes in but doesn’t take her eyes off Sorey.

As the Lady of Lhant, everyone in town knows Cheria’s healing artes. Her glow is the color of honey, her healing feels like home. The artes are warm and comforting even if they aren’t advanced. As a clergyman, Sorey’s healing artes excel beyond that of a normal citizen. A bright circle opens up beneath them, full of runes and whispers that only the oldest Malakim understand. Instead of milk and honey, Sorey’s artes feel more like pins and needles. Still, Cheria is glad for the help. Asbel’s body starts to heal itself much faster. Cheria starts applying bandages and sutures wherever necessary. The blood behind Asbel’s head starts to recede. Sorey’s eyes slide shut. He needs extra concentration for head wounds. Everyone holds their breaths and then Asbel lets sucks in a huge gasp and his eyes fly open. The first thing he hears is a collective sigh of relief. The first thing he sees is his wife’s face. Then  _ he _ breathes a sigh of relief.

“There you are.” Cheria says gently. The circle under them disappears. “How do you feel?” 

“Everything hurts.” Asbel replies like he’s waking up from a bad dream. “Was...was anyone else hurt?” Cheria looks to Hubert who sighs ruefully.

“I’m sorry, Asbel but there were casualties.” Hubert says sitting next to Cheria. Sophie sits next to Sorey. “Geno, Gerald, Livy and Mason are dead.” Asbel lets out a strangled noise. “Misty is in the care of The Church.” 

“And Livy’s kids?” Asbel asks. 

“They’re with my wife.” Bailey says. “We can keep an eye on them for a bit.” 

“I need to see Misty.” Asbel tries to get up but Sorey and Cheria force him back down.

“Not before I finish bandaging you up.” Cheria declares. Asbel relents. They work in silence for a while. Some of Asbel’s wounds are completely gone but will continue to ache for a few days. Some of the deeper wounds like his chest and arm will take a few more days to fully heal. Bailey brings Asbel’s coat from outside. It’s brown and crusted over by now. Completely unsalvageable. For generations, the Lord of Lhant has worn a white coat with their family’s Black Sopheria embossed on the back. Perhaps it’s fitting that his coat is now covered in blood. A lord should never draw his sword against his people. 

“Okay, try sitting up now.” Sorey says. Asbel tries again, this time slower. It still hurts but it’s better than dying. 

“I’m sorry, everyone.” Asbel says bowing his head. “There should’ve been a better way to subdue him.” Everyone else in the room just trades glances with each other. Honestly, none of them are quite sure what happened. Hubert only saw Asbel kill Geno. Bailey heard the commotion but committed himself to Asbel’s orders. He’s the one who rang the Watchtower bells. Sorey only saw the bodies. 

“It was daemonblight, wasn’t it?” Sorey asks. “Was it Geno?” Asbel nods feebly.

“You can purify Daemonblight, can’t you?” He asks, suddenly desperate. 

“I can, but Geno is already dead.” Sorey replies sadly. “No one but a powerful Malak with certain abilities can bring someone back to life. You’ll have to go all the way to Izuchi for that.” Asbel sinks. 

“Asbel, this isn't your fault. No one blames you.” Hubert says. If anything, they’ve all failed today. Their father glares from the portrait across the hall. The old man should’ve stayed alive long enough to teach them better. 

“Did you have time to inspect the bodies?” Asbel asks Sorey. 

“No, but your mother has volunteered until I get back.” Sorey replies. Asbel tries to get to his feet, but Hubert has to help him up. 

“Either way, I need to show you something.” He looks back to Bailey, “Do you have it?” Bailey nods and motions to the bundle sitting on Asbel’s desk. He unwraps it and holds the firearm out to show them. Cheria gasps. Hubert takes a step back. Sorey blanches. “I found it in the major’s house. I’m sorry, but could you take a look at it and tell me which one it is.” All eyes shift to Sorey who’s frozen. Asbel balks. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked…”

“No.” Sorey says, shaking his head, “I can do it.” Hands shaking, he takes out a pair of reading glasses out of his robes. He takes the firearm from Asbel and turns the thing over several times. Everyone takes another step back. Sorey pushes out a small cylinder chamber in the base of the gun’s barrel and five bullets fall out. Sorey inspects each of them.

  
  


“It’s definitely a more advanced version of the Fodran firearms.” Sorey says. “Do you see this?” He points to the hammer. “This one changes bullets automatically. It’s definitely spirix.” Cheria mutters a prayer to Maxwell under her breath. “But that’s not the worst of it. Look here.” He shows them small letters on the left side of the barrel. The letters are uniform, stamped into metal by a machine, not artes:  _ Made In Elympios. Spirius Inc. 276-497-72900 _ . Sorey picks up a bullet from the desk. The numbers on the bottom of the bullet match the gun. “If it’s from Elympios that means that whoever was in the major’s house could be planning an attack on their behalf.” He places the gun back down like it’s a hot plate. 

“Could that be why Crowe attacked her?” Hubert asks. Sorey seems confused. “The killer from this morning. She claims that she’s  _ the  _ Velvet Crowe.” 

“That’s practically blasphemous.” Sorey replies. “They buried Sister Crowe with the highest honors when she died. I mean...I was  _ there _ .” She inspired him to become a shepherd in the first place. “She had to have been almost ninety, maybe more.”

“Did you ever see her?” Hubert asks. 

“No, but common people aren’t allowed to see Maotelus and Innominat. The Silver Flame Ceremonies are held by Lord Melchior," Sorey explains. “Especially not since...well…you know.” He scratches the back of his right hand nervously. The hot tickles of panic start streaming down his face. He’s sweating. His hands are still shaking. He knows those guns. He knows how they feel pressed against the back of his head. His right hand burns. He’s going to be sick. “Excuse me.” Bailey nearly goes after him but hesitates looking back at Asbel. 

“Go, I’m fine.” Asbel lies but Bailey won’t disobey a direct order. The four of them sit in silence for a moment, trying to absorb the last two hours. Lhant Manor has never seen a more somber day. It’s Lord sits in his father’s old office. Even though the title and manor has been passed to Asbel, they’ve never belonged to him. His skull feels so heavy, his aching neck can hardly lift it. The pain blurs his vision. If he can’t pull himself together, Lhant - no, all of Hyland - could be in danger. 

“We should examine the bodies next.” Cheria suggests. Between Asbel, Sophie and the Baby, she wants nothing more than to march down to the prison and scream profanities at Velvet Crowe until she’s blue in the face. Victoria, Geno, Mason, Livy and Gerald were all a part of Lhant and now through some cruel cosmic joke, they’ve met violent, bloody ends in peacetime. Their survivors are just children - wide eyed and helpless - wishing they could forget what they saw. Just like the children they rescued from Fendel. Richard looked the same way when they pulled him out of the abyss. Even now, she has nightmares about clutching his emaciated body pouring all of her healing spells into him just to keep him alive. 

“I shouldn’t have done that to Sorey...” Asbel barely gets to finish that sentence as the pain in his head interrupts his train of thought, stopping just short of running after the shepherd.

“Asbel…” Sophie doesn’t know what to do when her father’s like this but she tries to help.

“Not now, Sophie.” Getting the usual response doesn’t stop her from posting herself in front of the door with her arms out. 

“Your head was bleeding. Sit down before it bleeds more.” Sophie persists. Asbel knows that he can’t move her. Sophie doesn’t know her own strength. He turns back to Cheria who places her hands on her hips. Hubert places a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“We can’t lose you too.” He declares. “And we can’t rush things.” Looking into his eyes, Asbel knows he’s right. “Besides if you move too much with a concussion, you’ll have much worse than a headache.” He gently turns him around and sets him back in his father’s chair. “I’m going to check on Sorey, you two rest for a minute.” He points to Sophie. “Keep an eye on them.” Sophie nods and posts herself at the door once it closes. 

“If Crowe is right, we don’t have time to waste.” Asbel insists. 

“You can hardly walk in a straight line, you’re no use to anyone like this.” Cheria snaps right back. She plants herself on the desk. Asbel opens his mouth to respond but promptly shuts it. Ashamed, he looks away but Cheria lifts his head to look her in the eyes. “...you did what you had to, what if Geno had gone on some kind of rampage? He could’ve killed everyone there if you hadn’t acted. It’s not a good thing, but it was the  _ right _ thing.” Asbel rests his pounding head in his wife’s lap with a rueful sigh. 

“I can’t let this place become a warzone again.” He says, hating the lump in his throat. Cheria runs her hand through his hair, careful of his wounds. “I still remember the blood on the street, the sounds of people screaming...I can't let that happen again.”

“ _ We _ won’t.” Cheria says firmly. “We promised we’d only ever think of the future, remember?” She takes Asbel’s hand and places it on her belly. The baby kicks, knowing her father is nearby. Their future is supposed to be peaceful. His family deserves it. 

“I love you.” Asbel says. He’s meant it for over fifteen years. 

“I love you too.” 

Dusk approaches by the time Asbel feels well enough to meet everyone outside. Cheria and Bailey decide to stay behind. If Asbel is going to the chapel, someone needs to be at the manor just in case. Hubert takes them to the chapel by carriage. 

Lhant is on lockdown. Militiamen are everywhere. Anyone who’s not in the chapel are in their homes, locking their doors for the first time in a decade. Some peer through their windows as they roll by offering prayers of encouragement. Some throw petals into the street for good luck. Hubert decides to skip The Major's house for now so he takes another road. Sorey starts to breathe heavily again. He wipes his brow with his sleeve. He can’t shake this terrible feeling. He feels the Malevolence but how in the world did it get here? Malevolence doesn’t just appear in places so full of Eleth. When they arrive at the chapel, Hubert has to help him out of the cart. 

“Take Sorey through the back way,” Hubert says. “I’ll put the cart away.”

“No, it’s fine. Take me through the front.” Sorey says shaking the dizziness from his head. Asbel and Hubert exchange uneasy glances. Hubert opens his mouth to respond but Asbel interrupts them. He has to face his people one way or another. 

“Okay, but you need to tell me if you’re not feeling up to it.” Asbel says. They make quite a pair. One wounded and the other sickly. Hubert tries to protest but Sorey just walks past him. He’s too tired to argue. 

Desperate parishioners look up as the heavy oak door creaks open. Light breaks through the dimly lit chapel. Uncertain murmurs rise up from the congregation. Their fear and judgement washes over Asbel and nearly drags him under. He made a grave error that he must answer for. Their eyes follow him in hushed silence as he steps up to the pulpit. Some bend to touch and kiss Sorey’s garments as he walks by. Others take his hand and press it to their foreheads. Word travels fast around here. Maybe too fast. Asbel steps behind the podium and looks out at all of the familiar faces. He knows them all by name: Saul, Diane, Franklin, Midge and so on. He’s known them nearly his entire life. He has nothing prepared, but he won’t let their worries go unassuaged. 

“A loss for one of us is a loss for all of us.” He says. The crowd murmurs, paying their respects to those who’ve died. “The day I took on the lordship of this province I swore it would always know peace. I’ve failed you. I’m sorry.” Asbel bows his head. “I humbly ask for your forgiveness and please know that I will do everything in my power to make this right. Not just for you, but for Geno, Mason, Gerald and Livy.” He looks up to see some nodding their heads, others looking skeptical. He’s never seen his people so desperate. He can’t imagine the pandemonium if there’s another incident. When the muttering starts again, Sorey decides it’s time to intervene.

“Please, I urge everyone to stay calm and pray for your neighbors in need and everyone who has lost a loved one today. They need your support now more than ever.” At their Shepherd’s words, people’s shoulders unwind and their brows unfurrow. Warmth creeps back into the room.

“But...Lord Shepherd.” A young lady steps out of the pews and walks up to him. Her face is set but her hands are shaking. “What about the rumors? People are saying that Mr. Geno was sick with Daemonblight. Is that true?” Murmurs rise with Asbel’s nerves but Sorey isn’t bothered. In fact, he approaches the young lady and places his hands on her shoulders. The way he looks into people’s eyes and sees their fear and pain must be of the gods. 

“Midge,” The girl smiles, knowing Sorey remembers her name. “Even if it is true, you are doing the best method of fighting it. Sticking together and believing in each other. Malevolence feeds on distrust. As long as you stay together and trust each other, that is the greatest defense against Malevolence. And if we find any evidence of it, I will purify it.” Midge sniffles and throws her arms around Sorey. 

“We trust you and Lord Asbel, Lord Shepherd. We know you’ll make this right.” She says. Finally, the congregation starts murmuring affirmations. 

“Thank you, everyone. I have some business to attend to in the clinic.” He looks over to Sorey. “Can you lead them in a quick prayer, please?” Sorey nods and gathers everyone around while Asbel disappears into the back. His head aches. His heart thunders in his chest. He sits on the nearest surface just to catch his breath. How can he possibly make this right when he’s not even in fighting condition? This day has lasted a year and it’s not over. When Sorey leaves the room, he finds Asbel with his head bent and eyes screwed shut in silent prayer. He clears his throat gently.

“Oh! Sorry, Sorey, I was just…” Asbel staggers to his feet and wipes his eyes as subtly as he can. The Shepherd never judges him but his understanding smile still makes him feel exposed. “Do you need a minute to rest?” He asks, desperate to deflect. 

“I would like to speak to the bereaved first, if that’s okay.” Sorey replies instead. Asbel doesn’t press the issue and asks the nearby nun where she is. 

According to Sister Uriah, the poor girl hasn’t said a word since the incident. It’s not surprising. Misty trusted Geno her entire life then he split her twin brother’s neck right in front of her. Her mother hasn’t come home from The Enclave yet. Just before she left, Misty promised her that she would keep an eye out for their shy, timid Mason. In the end, she broke that promise and it broke her. She sits on the room’s singular bed. Her sleeves are still covered in Mason’s blood. She’s been unresponsive to Uriah’s attempts to get her to change so the spare dress hangs uselessly on the headboard. She doesn’t speak when Sorey approaches her. When Asbel tries to follow him, he stops.

“I think you should wait outside.” Reluctantly, Asbel lingers outside the door. “Misty?” Sorey asks. She doesn’t respond. He sits next to her on the bed and still she doesn’t flinch. “I know things are dark right now, but please know that you aren’t alone. Your mother will be here soon and until then you can rely on us.” Misty’s hands ball into fists but her empty expression doesn’t change. After a long silence, he continues, “You know I had a family in Gand. I was raised by Malakim during the war. When Fendel invaded Logress, I’d been adopted by an old man named Zenrus. I called him Gramps all the time. If anything, he’s the only father I’ve ever really known.” Misty sniffs. Sorey hopes it’s progress. “He was trying to protect me and it only got him killed in the end. I didn’t speak for nearly a year. I probably never would’ve again if it weren’t for Mikleo.” Asbel fights the lump in his throat for the second time. He’s heard this story before. He was there. He knows Mikleo and he knows the unbreakable bond the two share. “Let us be that for you.” Sorey tucks a lock of the girl’s hair behind her ear. “If you can’t stand up on your own, let us be who you lean on. I know Gramps wouldn’t want me to live in despair and you know Mason wouldn’t want that either. He...”

“Mason wouldn’t have wanted that for  _ anyone _ . Not just me.” Misty interrupts quietly, her voice hoarse from screaming. “He was good like that, you know? Sweet and nice and...he just wanted...he just…” She gazes at her clenched hands under Sorey’s and unwinds them. Her brother’s blood is in the groves of her hands and under her fingernails. She breaks; wailing for the loss of her brother and neighbors. She lays her head in Sorey's lap and he prays as she cries herself into exhaustion.

Asbel can hardly stand the sight of it and closes the door. He finds Sister Uriah and asks her to bring a basin of warm water for Misty but he can still hear the poor child sobbing through the wood. The Lhant Family has watched over their province for generations. Quaint and small they may be but this is one more in a legacy of turmoil. Even his father had his fair share of heinous crimes but there was never a single case of Daemonblight. So why now? Lhant has always been full of Eleth. If there was Malevolence, why hasn’t Sophie sensed it until today? 

“Make sure her hands are clean.” Sorey advises as Sister Uriah walks by them. Asbel doesn’t know how long he’s been standing there.

“Don’t worry, Lord Shepherd, I won’t let her out of my sight.” The Nun says and she shuts the door behind her. At least there’s something good that’s come out of all this.

“For what it’s worth, I think your grandfather would be very proud of your work.” Asbel says appraisingly. The Shepherd turns a bit sheepish and scratches the back of his head.

“Really? I feel like I’ve got so much to learn.” He says bashfully. 

“Regardless, you’ve put what you _ do  _ know to go use.” Asbel replies with a small, grateful smile. Sorey isn’t built for effusive praise so he changes the subject. “Come on, I’m sure Mom and Hubert are tired of waiting.” Asbel takes him to the mortuary. A militiaman stands guard. They’ve barred the bereaved from entering. Lady Kerri takes one look at her son and throws her arms around him.

“Oh thank goodness, you’re alright.” She says, squeezing far too hard to mind his injuries. “Thank you, Sorey for taking such good care of him.” She turns back to Asbel. “Make sure you thank Cheria for me too.” Lady Kerri lets go of her eldest and picks up right where she left off with Hubert. “It’s so strange.” She says with a sigh. “I’ve compared both bodies and even with The Major being in a state of decay, this woman matches her. Even her moles and birthmarks are the same. I only know of a few artes that can copy a person’s appearance so thoroughly and they take a powerful caster to do so but...come look.” 

She uncovers the woman’s face and opens her eyes. They’re yellow and bloodshot. She shows them the palms of her hands too. They can hardly tell at first glance but looking closer, the crevasses of her hands are discolored. Skin discoloration is the first sign of Spirix Exposure. 

“Someone with Spirix Exposure wouldn’t find it very easy to cast artes that powerful unless she’s a Malak.” This Killer is definitely not a Malak. “There’s no tattoo on her.” She hands them a parchment where Hubert scribbled Velvet’s tattoo. Sorey frowns only someone with deep, abiding hatred for Maxwell would give someone that brand.

“Did the woman who killed her say who gave her this mark?” Sorey asks. He doesn’t want to touch it. 

“No, only that it would mean that she’s right.” Hubert says shaking his head. “She refused to say anything else. Why?”

“That’s the mark of a Therion.” Sorey says. The Lhants have never heard of such a thing. “Therions are daemons that feed on Malevolence. They were once created for the purpose of consuming Malevolence and therefore purifying any affected areas.”

“But only the silver flame can do that.” Lady Kerri says unbidden. She covers her mouth realizing she’s spoken out of turn.

“Well, we know that now. The experiment was a disaster.” He turns to Asbel and Hubert. “You were there actually. Mikleo and I weren’t just candidates for Armatization.” Hubert gasps with the realization. “Therions are  _ made _ from people and Malaks under extreme duress. They don’t exist in nature. However…” He rounds the table to get a better look at the Imposter’s hands. “Powerful Therions have special abilities. It’s not a stretch that this person could change her appearance or shape. Take a step back, let me try something.” The Lhants do as they’re told. “If this is a Therion, then the silver flame  _ could _ lift the arte long enough.”

Sorey mutters a prayer to himself. For a second time, a circle appears beneath their feet full of runes and those disquieting whispers. He takes out one of his many paper talismans. It ignites itself with Sorey’s glittering silver flame. It’s a gift from Maotelus himself. It floats over the imposter lighting the body with its holy light. Slowly, the Imposter’s blonde hair starts to melt away. Her muscular body starts to shrink and the lines in her face sink into her cheeks to reveal an emaciated woman with dark hair and massive splotches of discolored skin all over her body. Her winkles are filled in with gray and yellow. Sure enough, she carries the Mark of Therions on her wrist. Sorey can’t light the flame for very long. Once it goes out, the body slowly starts changing back into Major Victoria. Sorey crumples into himself and Hubert narrowly catches him. Lady Kerri gives him a chair. 

“What does this mean?” Asbel asks. Sorey needs a moment to catch his breathm The Lhant Noble Family wracks their brains for an answer. Victoria Bell was a mean woman and an infamous taskmaster, but she was never cruel. No old recruits would be looking for revenge. Moreover, the Imposter looked older than the Major. There’s no one from the woman’s past that could come after her, she grew up in Lhant. With her husband gone, Major Victoria has no living family. Lady Kerri directed the funerals for her mother, father and two brothers. 

“I think what it means is this Crowe woman might be right.” Sorey says. The Lhants gaze up at him almost insulted he would even suggest it. Perhaps even more so that he’s probably right. “Is there  _ anything else _ that can corroborate her story?” 

“There is one thing but we’ll need to go to the Major’s house.” Hubert says gravely. “I need to know if you’re up to it.” At first, Asbel thinks Hubert is talking to Sorey. It takes him a second to realize that it’s him everyone’s concerned about. 

“I’m fine.” Asbel insists. “Cheria and Sorey fixed me up. I’m good to go.” Hubert just sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Sorey once you feel better, we can go.” This day just won’t end, it seems. He sweeps put of the room and Lady Kerri goes after him leaving Sorey and Asbel alone. They sit silently among the dead until Sorey collects himself. When they leave the mausoleum, the chapel is empty and their mother has retired for the night. 

The walk to the Major’s house is gratingly silent. Asbel is tired. He could’ve died today along with everyone else. His daughters would grow up without a father and his wife would have to preside over his title alone. He can’t abandon them, but what will he do if something like this happens again? Honestly, he doesn’t want to think of what might happen if Daemonblight hits another civilian. This begs the question: what kind of resentment did Geno harbor if Malevolence could manipulate it so easily? He doesn’t have it in him to investigate the man’s house, not when he just killed him.

Somehow The Major’s house looks so much more imposing. It's night now, but he can still see the stains in the cobblestones. Thunder roils overhead. He wonders why it hasn’t rained yet. When he woke up this morning he had a plan: breakfast with his family, morning meetings, depositions...that seems like another life. Perhaps he was stupid to believe that Hyland could just avoid the war all together. Perhaps he’s even  _ stupider _ for believing he was meant for anything but battle. He  _ should've _ noticed something was wrong with Major Victoria. He  _ should’ve _ taken her seriously. He  _ should’ve _ invited Livy over for dinner more often. He  _ should’ve _ told Mason how much he’d grown despite his shyness. He  _ should’ve _ told Geno that he couldn’t have survived the war without his wisdom. 

“Here we are.” Hubert says to Sorey, but he’s looking at Asbel who’s gone several shades whiter. This is a bad idea. He hesitates before speaking again. “According to Ms. Crowe, there is a “hole” made of malevolence right under this house.” 

“That’s not how malevolence works…” Sorey says crossing his arms and gazing up at the house. He’s seen it several times during his stay in Lhant but it seems more intimidating now. Something about it’s stark facade set him on edge. There’s definitely something wrong. “Malevolence always feels the same way. It’s like any human emotion really. Everyone feels it one way or another but you can get overwhelmed by it, that’s what Daemonblight is. When you get so overwhelmed that you can’t come back from it.” He places his hand on the door. “Something is definitely wrong here.”

“Doesn’t Malevolence affect you physically?” Hubert asks. “Cheria did say you weren’t feeling well this morning.” 

“Well, yes it does but…” Sorey trails off for a moment, stuck between embarrassment and guilt. “...it’s hard for me to tell the difference between that and my own...um... _ illness  _ these days.” Hubert and Asbel exchange worried glances and then back to Sorey. 

“Is there any way you can find it?” Asbel asks. He doesn’t want Sorey to overexert himself but he can’t let this Malevolence remain in his town unchecked. Sorey nods and takes out one of his calcified paper talismans. Where does he keep those things? 

“Stand back.” They do so and Sorey starts to glow. Another circle opens up beneath him. This one might be different but the cold chill and disembodied whispers are the same. The paper floats over and plants itself on the door. It lights up with Silver Flame. Sorey presses his hands together in prayer. Hubert has to shield his eyes. He’s never seen Sorey purify something before. It’s a simple process, really. Usually, Sorey only needs the Silver Flame and the malevolent victim. Purifying something is like straightening a tangled rope. Every tangle is different and some are impossibly complicated but he’s  _ never _ seen anything like this.

It’s just like Crowe said. There’s a giant, yawning chasm underneath Lhant. 

Eleth is a river that sustains the life around it. Some places get more than others, but that’s the beauty of it. However, when that river is disturbed, all life around it is disturbed as well. This is not a disturbance, it’s not a blockage, it’s not even an overflow. It’s just a hole. Instead of disturbing the river; someone has parted it and wherever there is no Eleth, there is Malevolence. And it’s slowly filling the yawning emptiness. He can’t allow this to get worse, but he doesn’t know how to fix a  _ hole _ in Eleth. He can at least take care of the Malevolence. 

Asbel shields his eyes as the light glows brighter. Good thing they evacuated the houses nearby. 

Sorey wraps the inky blackness in his flames then presses it down. Malevolence never gives up without a fight. He’s seen it all: convulsing bodies, wailing rocks and gnashing teeth. He’s felt the earth shudder like there’s a massive bubble beneath it. But he’s never  _ heard _ the Malevolence. It groans and thrashes. He hears whispers, pleas and screams. He hears the clashing of swords and the splashing of blood. He hears people crying out in agony. Surrounded by the sounds of Lhant’s war, he tries desperately to restore the balance to the Eleth but it screams resistance. The cold claws of panic start to sink in. His hands are shaking. He’s sweating all over. He knows if he can hold on just a little while longer, he can beat it into submission. There’s a stabbing pain in his chest but he can’t back down.  _ Not yet! _ Sorey thinks desperately. Somewhere in the darkness, Mikleo calls out to him. His voice is ragged with terror. 

_It’s_ _not real,_ he _knows_ it’s _not real_. But it’s a familiar sound. Suddenly he’s back in the Fendalian Laboratories clinging desperately to Mikleo, pleading with the faceless soldiers trying to drag them apart. He can even feel the pain of his fingers breaking as they pelt him with the butts of their rifles. Fear and death are everywhere. Their only comfort is in each other. When the Fendelian army finally breaks them apart, Sorey screams. But something’s different. Instead of the sirens going off, the Fendelian soldier places a firearm to Mikleo’s head and _fires_. Blood and viscera splatters onto his face. Mikleo’s body falls into his lap, spilling everywhere. From Mikleo’s head, black blood oozes out. It spreads into every crack and pore. The soldiers start to scream in terror but all Sorey can see are Mikleo’s lifeless eyes. Thick, sticky shadows start climbing him. They sink their teeth into him. They pour from his eyes and sink into his mouth suffocating him, ripping open his throat from the inside...

All at once Sorey’s circle vanishes. His knees give out and he coughs blood onto the doorstep. He’s not strong enough.

“How horrible...”  _ That’s not how it happened...It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not… _ Hubert and Asbel paw at him. They try to soothe him but he can’t hear what they’re saying. He can’t stop shaking. His greatest fear, realized right before his eyes. He could hear it, tastes and smell it even. Tears blur his vision, terror restricts his breathing. He tries to catch his breath but only ends up vomiting. Blood drips from his nose. Blinding pain fills his head with such pain he holds onto it to keep it from splitting open. “How  _ horrible _ ...” 

He must’ve blacked out because the next thing he sees is the ceiling of Lhant Manor and Cheria leaning over him.

“There you are. I was really beginning to worry there.” She’s so kind and gentle. Sorey almost wants to go back to sleep. It’s past midnight. Cheria is in her night dress, clearly exhausted. She dabs at his face with a warm cloth. Someone’s removed the top of his hanfu. His throat burns from vomiting. He must’ve made quite a mess. How  _ embarrassing _ . 

“I’m so sorry, I…” Sorey tries to sit up but Cheria gently pushes him back down. He doesn’t fight it. His arms feel like jelly. 

“Asbel says you found the hole Ms. Crowe was talking about.” Cheria interrupts his apology. If she let him get started, he’ll never stop. Sorey nods and looks away shamefully. “...you weren’t able to purify it?” She tries in vain not to sound disappointed. 

“Not alone at least.” Sorey says. He looks at his hands. His fingers are long but crooked from frequent breakage. There's no blood on them. “Crowe was right.” Sorey says. Cheria only sighs her disappointment. Sorey sighs and rubs his brow. The headache is starting to settle in. “Does _ she  _ know how to fix it?” 

“I don’t know. If she does, she’s not telling us unless we agree to let her go free.” Cheria says. So this Crowe woman wants them to choose between their ethics and their safety. It’s smart, but cruel. “Hubert and Asbel finally went to bed after arguing for hours.”

“Did they decide anything?” He asks. 

“They made a compromise. Crowe will be going with Asbel to Windor. Since they found something that belongs to Elympios, one of us has to talk to Richard and discuss our next move. Since he’s still not exactly in fighting shape, I volun-told Asbel to go.” Cheria tries to smile but she falters. 

“I have to go with them.” Sorey says. She lets him sit up this time. “I need to speak to the Shepherds in Windor, I need to know if they know anything about this and if we can stop from growing. I’ve had hard times purifying before, but never like this...if we let it go unchecked something terrible will happen.” He screws his eyes shut trying to will away the vision of Mikleo’s death.  _ Mikleo is still alive,  _ he tells himself.  _ He never died, he’s in Izuchi and he’s  _ fine. 

“What did you see in the Malevolence? Asbel said you coughed up  _ blood _ and collapsed. You gave him a hell of a scare, you know. I don’t think he’s ever heard you do something like that.” Cheria has, but only once. They don’t talk about it. Sorey takes a long moment to answer. His hands start to shake. He doesn’t know how to describe what he’d seen. He heard the cries of the war Lhant had left behind. He saw the prison he’d been freed from and the friend he nearly lost. He saw the worst outcome possible of every situation. Children crying from hunger, moans of the ill and dying, the sounds of battle and the smell of rotting corpses followed by an impossible, all-consuming darkness. 

“I saw the end of the world.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, I'm doctorcanon on tumblr and ah_doctorcanon on twitter. If you have any questions, message me or leave something for me in #talesofmashup tag on either site.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a Black writer, the last few weeks have been very difficult for me. So I apologize for going off schedule so early in the game. Black Lives Matter. If you'd like to help, please see the NAACP website, they have a link to an ongoing list of resources on the front page.

With all due respect to King Richard, Windor is dated as hell. They have all shipments and daily ferries going through the same checkpoint. At age 32, Yuri has accepted the fact that he’s not a very patient man. So waiting all morning at an immigration checkpoint is his own personal hell. What good are Flynn’s fancy papers if he’s just going to get stuck in the same places as every time? The guards want nothing to do with him. No one else seems to know where the check point actually is. It seems Raven wasn’t lying about the sorry state of travel in Hyland. This place is so disconnected from the world and all it’s problems. Considering the state of the gods-awful checkpoint, they might as well be trying to suck goodwill through a straw. He doesn’t have time for this. There’s no telling how much time he has to complete his mission. 

Ferries start piling up around noon. Oh great, that’s going to make this even worse. Most of them are colored according to their provinces. Many of the passengers get off and start shoving their way through brandishing their work permits at the guards. They’re immediately told to get to the back of the line just like he was. They don’t even give their permits a second glance. Overworked and underpaid. If he could just get past them then he could get into the city no problem. He might have to make a scene. 

However, it seems like someone already beat him to it. Guards start calling for everyone to make way in the most disorganized way possible and when they finally get a clear path, a carriage with no windows but painted white and green - the colors of Hyland’s Royal family - clamors into the harbor. Judging by the ostentatious golden sun painted on the door, it must belong to the church. The two female guards step off of the carriage and up to a white ferry flying Lhant’s Black Sopheria. What the hell could a sleepy little province like Lhant be doing with the church? Don’t they have their own shepherd?

He gets his answer about a minute later when the guards escort a prisoner with her head covered off of the boat. Her hands are chained to a loop around her waist, so that means she’s particularly dangerous. A hushed pall settles over the crowd. He’d wonder what she did if he had the time to. This might be the perfect time to get past the checkpoint. Two people follow her off the boat. One of them has to be one of Lhant’s lords. He’s not wearing that ugly white coat so this has to be the younger one, Hubert. He has no idea who the kid is behind him though. He’s dressed like a shepherd but there’s not an ounce of authority in him. Judging by the way he stops and places a hand over his mouth, he might not have any food left in him either. He doesn’t like to judge but in his many travels, he’s never met someone who gets sick from a short ferry ride. Lhant is less than an hour away by boat. Whatever. This is his chance. 

“Lord Lhant! Lord Shepherd!” It’s been a long time since someone has called Asbel by his surname. He looks to the crowd in front of the checkpoint to see someone with long hair approaching them. He’s never seen this man before in his life. Sorey doesn’t seem to know him either, but he’s been doubled over in pain since last night. He’d be hard pressed to bother with anything but the most familiar faces. 

“Do I know you?” Asbel asks. Everyone in the checkpoint crowd is already in Gossip Mode, whispering to each other and rubbernecking so hard they might twist themselves around. A lord has certain obligations he has to fulfill, including not being an asshole in front of a crowd.

“No, but King Richard requested I meet you out here. Considering everything that’s happened.” The Long haired man gestures to the carriage as it disappears behind the checkpoint. Asbel doesn’t like having her out of his sight for so long but if anyone can keep a daemon under lock and key, it’s The Church of Windor. He’s never needed an escort through the capital before but he is carrying sensitive information. This man doesn’t look like a guard. In fact, with his Bodhi Blastia and long hair, he’d guess this man is from Terca. Since when does Richard hire  _ Mercenaries _ ? 

“Oh, I didn’t know he made any additional arrangements.” Asbel says with an incredulous squint. He sent the carrier pigeon about an hour before midnight. He didn’t expect any other precautions to be taken other than taking Velvet into custody.

“Well your correspondence always takes priority.” The man says. Asbel winces. While it’s no secret he and Richard are close, he’d rather not make it sound like he gets preferential treatment. “And we should probably get the Shepherd some ginger root.” 

“No, please. I’m fine.” Sorey replies but the man is already off talking to one of the guards. 

“Hey! We’ve got priority passes; all three of us.” The man says. Asbel’s is in his hand but Sorey is a clergyman. He can pass whenever he likes. 

“Very well, state your name.” The Guard says taking the pass from him and looking it over. 

“Yuri Lowell.” Asbel’s heard that name once or twice before in passing. They don’t talk about the war much, but everyone heard about the attacks on Elympios’s factories. All thanks to Reize Maxia’s Prophet of Kresnik, supposedly. When Yuri presents his Guild Pass to the guard, Asbel is sure that’s the same man. Not many mercenary guilds are known this far away from Terca but the ornate Ten Point Star only belongs to one Guild. However, the checkpoint guard isn’t convinced. She takes a while to look at the man’s photograph then back to Yuri then back to the photograph and back to Yuri and back to… “Can we please go through?” He asks.

“You may pass.” The Checkpoint Guard adds one more to the many, many stamps on the man’s passport. She hands the pass back to Yuri and doesn’t even look at Asbel or Sorey. The crowd groans and Yuri can’t help but look back.  _ Sorry guys, but I’ve got business to attend to; life or death stuff. I’m sure you understand.  _

Somehow it’s still crowded when they leave the checkpoint. The Harbor is always in some kind of organized chaos. However, there’s something different. Usually, there are more people trying to get in than out but as Asbel climbs the steps heading to the city square, there are at least twice and many people trying to  _ leave _ the city. Supply carts line the streets and constables keep the traffic flowing. Dock workers fill bags with sand and use artes to twist rope. Asbel frowns. This is Hurricane Protocol, but it’s not storm season for at least three months, right around the time Cheria is due to give birth. The weather is still overcast but it hasn’t so much as rained yet. 

“Wow. That’s some commotion.” Yuri mutters to himself. Asbel turns back to his supposed escort who matches his incredulous glare. 

“Yuri Lowell. Of Brave Vesperia?” He elaborates. He folds his arms, sizing up the taller man. “Just why does Richard need the help of mercenaries?”  _ Well, what a way to introduce yourself,  _ Yuri thinks. Nobles are all the same. 

“That’s me.” Yuri replies with an edge to his voice. The Shepherd must’ve sensed the growing conflict, because he offers his hand to shake.

“I’m Sorey, it’s very nice to meet you Mr. Lowell.” He says. Yuri just got here so he takes the Shepherd’s offer of de-escalation and shakes his hand. It’s cold. He doesn’t want to squeeze too hard, he might break the poor kid. 

“Bit odd for a Shepherd to be shaking hands.” Yuri comments. 

“Is that strange?” Sorey asks, suddenly sheepish. 

“Ah, no just...the priests where I’m from don’t exactly fraternize with the public. Much less shake hands with them.” Yuri can’t help but feel a little bad. He didn’t mean to make the kid feel self conscious. He gestures in what he hopes is the general direction of the castle. “Shall we? The king’s a busy man, I’m sure.” He says. 

“Actually, I’m going to the chapel.” Sorey says with a bow. 

“Will you be okay alo…” Asbel starts to say.

“Yes.” Sorey says with a long suffering chuckle. “I’ll be fine  _ by myself. _ ” This kid is clearly not okay, Yuri thinks, but he clearly needs a break from Lord Fatherly Instinct. Sorey vanishes into the crowd but Asbel stares after him a few seconds more. Yuri starts walking toward the direction he pointed in.

“The Castle’s that way.” Asbel says pointing west. Yuri pivots on his heel and starts walking just as confidently in the opposite direction. Asbel matches Yuri’s gait but ends up having to lead the way to the castle when it becomes clear Yuri doesn’t know where he’s going. “You never answered my question.”

“What question?” Yuri asks a bit too innocently. Asbel is too sleep deprived to put up with any crap from a man he doesn’t know. 

“Why does Richard want to hire mercenaries?” Asbel repeats. 

“He doesn’t want to hire my guild, actually.” Yuri says. “I’m here to negotiate.” 

“On the Royal level?” Asbel asks, entirely unconvinced. 

“That’s classified but...yeah.” Yuri doesn’t brag about his royal connections. Honestly, they’re more like obligations but this one is important. They present their respective Audience Approvals to the Castle Guard and once their identities are approved, they’re escorted into the castle. Asbel has never needed an escort before but he hands over his father’s sword as requested while Yuri removes his Blastia, Twin hatchets and...his left glove? Asbel is too tired to question it. Sleep didn’t come easy last night. He wants to be back home where he can keep an eye on the situation. Hubert would be better suited for this but he hasn’t seen Richard in a long time. If anyone can provide him some peace of mind, it’s an old friend. 

“They told me security would be bad but geez.” Yuri says massaging his wrist where his Blastia was. Asbel decides not to mention the tan lines it left behind. 

“Richard has to be careful these days. There’s no telling what people are thinking.” Asbel replies sharply. He’s instantly defensive of Richard, even when he doesn’t quite know what’s going on. “Having a known mercenary in your kingdom doesn’t exactly scream peace.” 

“Which is why King Gaius requested I greet him formally.” Yuri replies. Asbel doesn’t like his tone but is more concerned about the “King Gaius” part.

“King Gaius. The Warrior King?” Asbel says incredulously. Highly unlikely that Richard would just invite a representative of the Assassin King to have an audience. Not after everything he’s done to ensure peace. “Doesn’t he have his own henchmen? Does he really have to send a mercenary to do his dirty work?” 

“Sure.” Yuri is absolutely done with this conversation. Asbel has other ideas.

“I  _ know _ about what you did to those Elympion Factories. I doubt Richard will just let you operate freely.” Asbel mutters more to himself than Yuri. His ugly mood has gotten the best of him but he’s too tired to care. “Besides, no one in Hyland travels by train.” Yuri stops and pivots so fast Asbel’s sword hand instinctively reaches for it’s perch only to land in his pocket. Their armed escort just stammers hopelessly trying to get the two men to stop arguing. 

“Look.” Yuri spits. “I don’t know what crawled up your ass today, Lord Hubert, but I’m here to do a job, not pick fights. But I’ll gladly accommodate you once I’ve finished here.” 

“I’m  _ Asbel _ .” 

“Cool. I prefer  _ Asshole _ .” 

On cue, the audience chamber door opens and a boy, not more than the age of twelve pokes his head out. Argument interrupted, the two men gather themselves up and try to behave themselves. The boy lights up at the sight of Asbel and he comes running down the stairs. In the three seconds it takes him to do so, Asbel goes from raging douche to caring father figure. 

“Asbel!” The boy isn’t tall enough to hug anything but Asbel’s waist.He does so very carefully. Yuri instantly realizes the boy’s not human. It might have something to do with his red eyes, stark white complexion and strange whispering voice. God, Malak kids are  _ so creepy _ even when they’re being sweet. 

“Emre! Buddy! How’re you doing?” Asbel bends to the Malak’s level and ruffles his hair. Emre doesn’t seem interested in answering his question though. He glances from left to right and over Asbel’s shoulder. He looks over Yuri and frowns. 

“Where’s Sophie?” He asks. Asbel just laughs off the boy’s question.

“It’s only a short visit, so I couldn’t bring her.” Asbel says. Not even Yuri is immune to the boy’s crestfallen expression. “But you can come over and see the new baby once she’s born and you and Sophie will get to spend as much time as you want together.” This seems to satisfy Emre, but he has one more question. 

“Will Queen come to visit too?” He asks. 

“Of course.” Asbel ruffles the kid’s hair one more time and the boy darts back inside. Asbel looks back at Yuri like he’s daring him to say something but he doesn’t take the bait. They follow the boy inside to the audience chamber. It’s more intimate than the throne room but still full of lush carpets, intricate tapestries and tributes to the Windor Royal Family. 

Nothing breeds jealousy like a lofty title. Nothing is more powerful than the King in Hyland. Poisonings, assassinations, hangings, brothers against sisters and husband against wife. Windors will do anything to get their hands on the royal title. It’s considered bad luck if the queen has more than one child. Some say the Windors are cursed and looking at King Richard, Yuri believes it.

Behind the king’s gold rimmed glasses, his eyes are turning glassy. His dark gloves are almost too big. His cane is lined with gold filigree and probably has a sword in it, but he clearly can’t walk for long without it. He’s sallow from Spirix Exposure. Only thirty-five, his hair is already graying. King Richard might be finely dressed and with royal poise, but he has one foot in the grave. So it looks like the rumors about what happened in Fendel are true. He’s always critical about Hyland’s pacifist stance, but now he sees why.  _ Okay, Flynn, you win  _ this _ time _ . 

Like Emre, Richard doesn’t bother with pleasantries but greets Asbel with a hug, despite the fact that there are three other people in this room. Asbel doesn’t return the hug for a moment, he seems fixated on Richard’s cane.

“Asbel, my friend. It’s so good to see you.” He says, but judging by the way he’s squinting he’s not seeing much of anything. “I wish it were under better circumstances. It would give us time to catch up.” He pats him on the shoulder and moves to Yuri. “You must be Mr. Lowell,” Yuri starts to bow at the waist but Richard holds his hand out to shake. What is it about Hyland and wanting to touch people? Yuri takes his hand and it feels just as cold as The Shepherd’s even though he’s wearing gloves. Friendly royalty always confuses him.

“Please, just call me Yuri.” If the man wants so badly to be a friend, he’ll try to reciprocate. He’s in unfamiliar territory after all. He needs all the friends he can get. “I don’t even know who Mr. Lowell is.” Richard seems to genuinely enjoy the joke. Yuri has to admit, it feels nice.

“Please have a seat.” There are only two chairs left. The other three have already been served tea but one can’t be bothered to touch it. He’s just a kid and this meeting is more for the woman sitting next to him. He looks just as bored as Yuri is about to be. The man sitting across from him tries to smile in greeting but doesn’t make eye contact. “My apologies for such a slapdash meeting, I’d planned to do this a bit more delicately.” That sets Asbel’s nerves on end. He cannot take any more surprises. “Asbel, Mr. Low...ah... _ Yuri. _ This is Tear Grants and Luke Fon Fabre. Representatives of the Order of Lorelai.” It takes two seconds for Asbel’s sleep deprived brain to catch up.

“What?!” He bleats. Richard loses about half of his good humor. He clearly expected this reaction. The man across the table did not and chokes on his Earl Gray.

“Asbel, please, let me finish.” He pleads wearily. The only thing keeping Asbel from storming out of here is his trust in Richard. Sitting next to Kimlascan Military makes him want to spit nails. He’s heard of the King’s bratty little brother, trapped in their fancy metal tower. Contrary to the rumors, it seems like the kid is doing quite a bit of sightseeing. 

“This is Doctor Jude Mathis.” Richard says motioning to the man wiping his mouth clean of tea. Dr. Mathis waves sheepishly. “He’s one of the Amarcian Enclave’s foremost experts on Spirix.” The doctor turns a very flattered shade of pink. Very professional. 

  
  


“What is going on here?” Asbel demands. 

“We’ve been planning this meeting for quite some time.” Tear says calmly in the face of Asbel’s anger. Kimlasca never made advances on Hyland, but they’ve allies with Elympios that makes them the enemy. Why the hell are they on Hyland soil sipping tea? “However, after receiving your message, his majesty thought it would be better for us to talk sooner rather than later.” 

“Why.” Asbel keeps his eyes on Richard.

“It really has been a while since you’ve been to the capital, Asbel.” Richard takes a seat. “But when I saw your letter, I had to speak with you personally. We’ve had similar phenomena all over this city.” It feels like one of Fendel’s bombs dropped into the room. “We’ve quarantined a few areas off but...well...you saw the Harbor, I’m sure.” Yuri sits back. He knew Hyland had its own problems, but still. He had no idea it was bad enough to invite The Enemy right to your doorstep. “Your account of yesterday’s events sounds regrettably familiar.”

“The worst part is it has no pattern.” Dr. Matthis says. With everyone’s attention, he shrinks back. “I’m sorry, did I interrupt?” Richard encourages him to continue with a polite “ _ not at all. _ ” “Mana..um..I mean Eleth. Is like a river, it flows. If the river is blocked or tampered with in some way, the river can overflow in some places and run dry in others. That causes Malevolence.”

“Okay but if you're an expert on Spirix, you’re an expert in what disrupts that river.” Asbel interjects. 

“Asbel.” Richard says warningly but Asbel is not in the mood. Dr. Matthis isn’t bothered. He must get that a lot. For an expert on Spirix, he doesn’t have as much Exposure as one would think. He has a little bit of skin discoloration around his eyes and hands, but that’s it. Maybe an  _ expert _ knows how to avoid it. 

“The phenomenon you discussed in your letter is identical to the holes we’ve found in Windor. These holes aren’t just blockages or droughts. It’s like the river flows around them. The Malevolence comes up anyway.” Asbel wishes Dr. Matthis didn’t sound so enthusiastic. 

“That’s exactly what Sorey said.” Asbel says. “Did they hallucinate too?” 

“Some of them.” Richard replies. “Others simply came down with a splitting headache. I think it comes down to ability. Sorey might be young but he’s one of the best.” 

“With all due respect,” Yuri interjects. “I’m feeling a little left out. What does this have to do with why I’m here?” Seriously, he came here for one thing. While it’s nice to know about the situation, that just means it’s all the more important for him to  _ get going _ . 

“If I may?” Tear speaks up. His Highness Fon Fabre doesn’t budge. He’s more interested in the pastries. Yuri isn’t sure how to feel with a member of the Order of Lorelai here. He can’t judge her if she’s here for peace, but it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Kimlasca dragged Terca into this whole war business, just as Hyland was getting out of it. Now he’s drinking tea with one of the most high ranking members of the military.  _ Flynn is going to throttle me. _ “King Richard has informed us that you are searching for a Person of Interest, yes?”

“Yeah, an Elympion defector.” Yuri replies. He doesn’t give her a name.

“We suspect that Elympios is developing a new Spirix behind our backs.” Tear waits for the shock to settle in. When Asbel sits back in his seat looking worse for wear, she continues, “A little over a year ago, Malkuth’s King Consort Jade Curtiss and Kimlasca’s Chief Engineer Guy Cecil left to inspect Elympios’s new Oscore Plant.” Tear glances at Yuri for a moment. He doesn’t let the guilt get to him. “They never came back. They’re still alive, but haven’t been allowed to return home.” Political hostages. That makes the second nation Elympios betrayed. Just what is their final goal, here? “Since then, Guy and Jade have been able to feed us bits and pieces of information through an inside source. They’re developing  _ something _ .” She places some photographs on the table. It’s weird to see color photography and in such detail too. “It’s similar to a weapon Jade and Guy were working on.” 

“Let me guess, it’s supposed to harvest the Aer...sorry... _ Eleth _ from the ground, right?” Yuri asks. He takes some notes. He’s not a part of Vesperia’s reconnaissance team but this information is critical.

“Not exactly.” Tear replies stonily. “The original purpose was to  _ recycle _ Fonons...I mean  _ Eleth _ , I’m sorry. Parts of Kimlasca are suffering as a result of fontech overuse.”

“I guess that’s what you get for siding with the wrong people.” Asbel says. Richard massages his temples. The Prince stops stuffing his face long enough to glare at Asbel. 

“Regardless,” Tear remains undaunted. “Jade and Guy’s disappearance coincides directly with the death of the Prophet of Kresnik. But you already know the problem with that. No one not even Kimlascan officials were allowed to see the body and the Order of Lorelai  _ does not _ condone extrajudicial killings.” 

“But you’d freely ally with people that experiment on prisoners and children.” Asbel fires back. 

“That’s  _ enough _ , Asbel!” Richard snaps so hard he stands from his chair only to break down into a fit of ragged coughing in the same instant. He presses a handkerchief to his mouth and collapses back into his chair. Emre hurriedly pours him a glass of water and pats his back as he struggles to catch his breath. 

They rescued Richard from the Fendel Prison eleven years ago but he’ll never truly be free. Their torment still survives inside him. It once broke his mind but now it’s breaking his body down slowly. It started small: a cough here, a headache there. Each year it gets worse. Soon, Richard will be completely blind. One day he’ll just stop breathing and leave Emre behind too soon. The thought of his new daughter growing up without knowing her uncle kills any other protests he might’ve had. Fully castigated, he gestures for Tear to continue.

“I’m sorry. Please, go on.” He says quietly but Tear can’t seem to find her voice.

“Okay but how is this linked to my defector?” Yuri asks just to interrupt the incoming somber mood. “He’s not important enough to know where the Prophet of Kresnik could be hiding. Especially if you don’t.” 

“No, but as a soldier, he would be able to provide some insight on the type of weapons they could be testing and why they would attack Hyland.” Tear says. Yuri considers this then says, 

“I mean, he was in Special Operations. He might be able to explain why they wanna make these eleth harvester things.” Everyone’s eyes shift to him. “I mean, it makes sense that they’d want to do more than just drain the Eleth in the area, right? Spirix doesn’t just use Eleth, some machines  _ store _ it too right?” He looks to Dr. Matthis to elaborate. Jude just nods rapidly. “If I had to guess, I’d say these anti-Eleth mines are supposed to be harvested and taken back from wherever they came from.” 

“That’s our proposal.” Richard says. Yuri winces in sympathy when he spots blood on the king’s handkerchief. “You are free to operate within Hyland within reason, of course. While I can’t offer direct passage back to Reize Maxia, I can grant you passage into Gand, if that’s where your search takes you. However, I ask that any information your mark has, to please share with Windor.” He turns to Tear and Luke. “Only Windor.  _ I _ will decide what we discuss from there.” 

“Aw what?!” Luke squeals. Tear, however, is a bit more demure.

“A fair trade.” She knows she’s in a precarious position. However, Yuri isn’t as sure. He should be in control of his own information. What would Flynn say? He’d probably prattle on about how his duty to his country outweighs his trepidation working directly with Kimlasca. So nothing useful. He doesn’t have time to consult anyone else.

“Agreed.”Yuri replies. Tear offers his hand to shake and he considers it for a moment but then he remembers the empty space where his Bodhi blastia used to be. Ultimately, he just gives her a nod. She's so understanding that he  _ almost  _ feels bad about it. He turns to Richard and adds, “I'll discuss additional stipulations with Princess Alisha.” 

Satisfied, Richard stands to his feet with great difficulty. Emre helps him get upright and he pats the boy’s head affectionately earning a broad smile from the young Malak. 

“Why don’t you go find Dezel, Emre? I’ll see you when it’s time for dinner.” King Richard says. Yuri’s pretty sure that Malaks don’t eat but Emre excitedly rushes out of the room. Tear makes a thoughtful sound once the door shuts.

“Making a Malak the royal heir is an  _ interesting _ strategy.” She says appraisingly. At first, Richard is utterly confused but then he chuckles in spite of himself. 

“No no, you misunderstand.” He says. “My cousin Alisha is in line for the throne. Emre is my adopted son, but he’s not an heir. In fact, he considers himself a  _ guardian _ of the royal family. Asbel’s daughter, Sophie, is much the same.” Asbel doesn’t say anything in response. He’s too busy staring down Richard’s handkerchief. 

“I think it’s great.” Dr. Matthis says, with just a little too much excitement. “Malaks, Spirits, Seraphim...they should all be able to live in harmony with humans. I think it’s great that you decided to raise a young Malak.” At the word “decided”, Asbel turns sharply to Dr. Matthis. Fortunately, no one but the King notices. 

“Your Highness, Lady Grants, please avail yourselves of the city for the time being. We will discuss your trip to the Amarcian Enclave later tonight.” As Tear excuses herself and the Prince, Luke groans,

“I don’t _ want  _ to go to some dumb school!” Any other complaints he has are lost to the door slamming behind them. Asbel doesn’t move.The three men left share concerned glances. He hasn’t said a word after his last outburst. He barely heard the last part of the conversation. 

“Yuri, Dr. Matthis, if you would give me a moment with Asbel. We’ll join you shortly.” Yuri doesn’t need to be asked twice and heads outside. However, Dr. Matthis’ intellect doesn’t seem to include how to read a room. 

“But, your majesty, I have a couple more questions about…” 

“Doc.” Yuri doesn’t like using his “Guild Leader Voice” but it does the trick. Dr. Matthis uproots himself from his chair and leaves with Yuri without any further complaint. With Richard and Asbel alone, Richard leans on the table next to him. Asbel doesn’t say anything for a long time but he holds out his hand for the cane. Richard obliges. Asbel turns it over in his hands several times. 

It reminds Asbel of Richard’s father, King Dorlan. He started to suffer from terrible back pain caused by an old injury in his military days. He was just past middle age when his brother - Alisha’s Father - assassinated him. They buried him with it. Richard’s cane is beautiful; made of pale hardwood, inlaid with gold filigree and an emerald inset where the cane and sword separate. It would be fitting for an aging King, not a young man of thirty-five. He gives it back.

“It’s nice.” Asbel says.

“This is the first time you’ve seen me use it, isn’t it?” It’s a rhetorical question. Richard smiles. “Hubert did the same thing. Rose hasn't said anything about it. Alisha cried.” 

“I think I’m more like Alisha.” Asbel says, the last syllable catches in his throat. He has to stay strong but the weight of Geno’s rampage, the war and the safety of the people of Lhant bends and breaks his shoulders. Somewhere deep down, Asbel still believes Richard can fix anything but in reality, he’s just as lost. He spent so long yesterday wrapped up in Lhant’s problems, he didn’t even think about how Richard must be suffering. The Capital is so much bigger than Lhant. Of  _ course _ , it would have more problems. He wonders if this is how Sorey feels before one of his episodes. He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes as if that will stop the tears from falling. God, he doesn’t even want to _ think _ about  _ tears _ . He doesn’t want to see that woman  _ ever _ again. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Richard replies. “Alisha has been taking more responsibility in preparation for…”

“Don’t.” Asbel says. He lifts his head to look Richard in the eye. 

“I have to be realistic.” The King replies levelly. “I have to make good use of the life you saved.” He hands Asbel one of the tea napkins. “After all, I might not have much of it left.” 

“How do you know this Tear woman isn’t just waiting for the right moment? I don’t understand how you can trust Kimlasca. Their king’s name is Asch The Bloody, for Maxwell’s sake.” Asbel insists standing to his feet. “Even if they weren’t directly involved in the Fendalian Assault, they still side with Elympios. Somehow, they’re still in our territory. Four people died last night because of whatever they’re planning. We _ can’t  _ get involved in this war again.”

“Tear has proven herself to Windor.” Richard always remains calm in the face of Asbel’s temper. He walks to the other side of the table and pushes a few papers around to find a letter watermarked with the Paeonia Lorelai but outlined with red like a Request for Aid. Why would Kimlasca show weakness to an enemy? With a dubious glance, Asbel takes and reads the letter for himself.

_ To the Honorable King Richard of Windor -  _

_ This is a formal joint Request for Aid from Peony Upala Malkuth and Asch Fon Fabre not as kings, but former allies. We do not ask for Humanitarian Aid, but simply for an audience. A representative will be sent to discuss the enclosed strategic map. The Anti-Spiritual movement has taken its toll on the entire world, but none more so than Hyland. We are aware of our hand in this but fear that this country may have made the same mistakes as Fendel all those years ago. We do not have the benefit of annexation. We can no longer depend on Elympios for economic assistance. We can no longer waste man power and lives throwing ourselves at The Schism. Our people starve and our soldiers die. We will _ not  _ compete with the power of the Prophet of Kresnik. A response is not required. However, if you do, we will withdraw our ships from Hyland waters and no Kimlascan or Malkuthi forces will take part in the coming Elympion invasion.  _

“An invasion?” Asbel blanches.

“We sent Dezel and Rose out to confirm before responding but yes. Elympion airships are poised on Hexen Isle. But Kimlascan forces have retreated citing technical issues.” Richard says. 

“I can’t believe they’d just expose their hand like that…” Asbel replies, running his hand through his hair. 

“I think perhaps the Prophet of Kresnik has blessed  _ us  _ with a little bit of luck.” King Richard says but Asbel frowns.

“You don’t honestly believe that it’s actually a Prophet, do you?” He hands the letter back to Richard. “It has to be a Malak, right?” Richard just shrugs. 

“Regardless, I say we can still learn a thing or two from Reize Maxia.” The king raises himself upright on his cane. “If Elympios plans on invading, we need to activate The Lastalia.” 

No wonder Richard requested that he come instead of Hubert. Even if his younger brother is the better politician, Asbel is the one with their father’s sword. The Lastalia is the geographical center of Hyland. Even though it’s underground, it’s beauty is renowned across Hyland. Some even say, all Eleth in Hyland flows from it. Lhant sits directly on top of it. It’s the Lord of Lhant’s sacred duty to protect it. As a child, Asbel would’ve rather died than stay in Lhant to protect a stupid underwater spring. Now it’s all he can think about. Time isn’t stopping. They can’t afford to waste any of it. If Elympios is going to break the ceasefire, then they are going to have to come back with something just as powerful. They don’t have the manpower, so they need protection. 

“Does Tear know about The Lastalia?” Asbel asks.

“No.” Richard replies. “As far as she knows, we have no other contingency plan.” A  _ plan _ . Asbel feels the knot in his chest loosen ever so slightly. Having a plan means they can fight back. 

“Sophie and Emre aren’t going to like this.” He admonishes. Richard chuckles at the thought of Emre’s whining. Asbel feels himself relax at the sound.

“We’ll have to think of something good to reward their hard work then. Perhaps some crab omelettes.” Richard says; after a moment he adds, “We are going to need a conduit though and we’ll need Queen for an arte that powerful.”

“So we’ll need to go to the Amarcian Enclave.” Asbel says, filling in the blanks himself. “How long until the invasion?”

“According to Tear, they’re waiting for the Scarlet Night.” Richard responds. “There’s no telling when that could be but your Therion friend said she might know, correct?”

“Yeah, we should tell Lowell to get out of Hyland or find shelter before that happens. He could be trapped here if we don’t help him find his mark soon.” 

“His Mark could provide information on the invasion as well.” Richard says. “We ought to get going. Dr. Mathis and Mr. Lowell will have made it to the cathedral already.” Asbel offers his friend his arm and Richard gladly takes it. The King smiles but Asbel sees the resignation in his eyes. He tries not to think about it. For now, he takes comfort in their plan of action. Elympios might be gunning for them but if they hurry they won’t even touch Hyland. Richard might need him to walk but Asbel needs Richard to help him lead.

“Somehow we always end up leaning on each other.” Asbel says. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, my friend.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still floating around on social media doctorcanon on tumblr and ah_doctorcanon on twitter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, back on schedule. I hope. Don't forget to visit the NAACP website for any other ways you can help and stay updated. With the coronavirus surge, make sure you're all washing your hands and wearing your masks. If you have a choice, stay inside and read fanfiction.

Windor’s Praetor Cathedral hasn’t changed for centuries but without Mikleo by his side, Sorey feels more alienated than when he lived here. Built nearly a century before the Windor Castle, Praetor Cathedral stands in the center of the city which says everything about this country and its people. Sorey is one of a handful of people raised in Izuchi. Once upon a time, he thought serving in such a place would feel just like home. But walking past the threshold, he instantly remembers why he couldn’t stand living here. How exactly do grandiose halls and expensive tapestries aid prayer? Of course, Windor has centuries of history but it doesn’t really belong in the church. They also have centuries of etiquette to follow. He can’t relate to people here. Parishioners chide him for shaking hands, allowing them to embrace him or even laughing out loud. Meanwhile, they’re so entitled to his time that he can’t find a moment to himself. With barely one foot in the door someone shouts,

“Hey look! Shepherd Sorey is here!” And they descend on him like bees to a picnic. A few of them comment about how well he looks. He slept a total of three hours, had nightmares through all of it and stopped vomiting at around 6am. But yes, he looks  _ great _ . Some ask how Lhant is treating him and how bored he must be. Four people died and when he gets back, he’ll be organizing the funeral services for all of them. But sure, Lhant is fantastic and  _ so relaxing  _ compared to the city. The rest grab the edge of his garment and kiss it, asking where his Malak companion is. They don’t wait for answers. 

“Lord Shepherd, we are going to leave town soon. Please bless me and my family, we’re going to Zavhert to assist with the clean up until this all blows over.”

“We’re going to Strahta, Lord Shepherd. Please pray that we’re protected from the heat.” 

“My street was quarantined, but I’m not even sure I want to return to my home. I ask for peace of mind, Lord Shepherd.” 

He doesn’t mind when parishioners ask for things. It’s a part of his job. When you provide a service, people care more about what you do for them rather than what you are; even when their concerns are valid. Lhant is no exception. With all of his incessant hovering, Asbel needs him. Lhant’s older Lord is so kind. In fact, Sorey is  _ surrounded _ by kindness in Lhant. People want to take care of him and make sure he’s healthy because without him, they have no shepherd. He can’t stand one more second of it. 

Everything hurts. He’s afraid to blink for fear he’ll see Mikleo’s lifeless face again. He’s deathly terrified of ever seeing those horrible visions again. Regardless, it’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. Does Asbel think he stops existing every time he’s alone? The man should count himself lucky that he doesn’t have to be aware of Sorey’s condition every single minute of his life. Sorey is a holy man, not an ailing child.

“Alright, alright everyone, please give Sorey some room to breathe.” The crowd parts to the sound of Grand Shepherd Eleanor’s voice. Like Sorey, she hasn’t been in Windor for very long, but she’s easily the most respected authority outside of Gand. Lady Eleanor approaches Sorey with a kind smile. Even her elegant green and white habit, she’s always seems so youthful. “I know you’re all eager to welcome him back but due to the circumstances, we have some things to discuss. Please look forward to prayer service tonight. Don’t forget we are limiting the cathedral’s hours starting tomorrow.”

“Will your Malak be there too, Lord Shepherd?” Someone asks, looking around for Mikleo. Sorey doesn’t really know how to answer that,

“Sorry, but no. He’s…”

“No matter, I’m sure he’s busy. We’ll see you tonight!” Just like that, the congregation is back to their pews. Sorey can’t hide the sigh this time. He wilts as the air leaves his body. He’s dizzy.

“Are you okay?” Eleanor says with a hand on his shoulder. Sorey looks away. He’s taller than her but he can’t help but feel small in the face of her pity. It’s the same look she gave him when he told her he wanted to take the empty position in Lhant. She also looked at him that way when Mikleo announced he wasn’t returning to Lhant with Sorey. She already knows something is wrong but is kind enough to ask whether or not he wants to talk about it. When he can’t respond she just sighs, “You’d better come downstairs.” 

In the time it takes for Eleanor to take him to the priest’s private quarters, Sorey’s hopes for more help in Lhant are dashed. She informs him that not only have there been similar phenomena here in Windor but the other shepherds can’t find a way to purify them either.

“How long has this been happening?” It’s just a polite way of asking “why haven’t you told me?” 

“Only for the last week or so, maybe a little longer. The king is already aware. He says he has a plan he’s going to discuss with us later today.” They stop at the meeting room and Eleanor knocks three times. To Sorey’s surprise Oscar’s Malak, Silva, answers the door. 

“Sorey!” The Malak Child exclaims hugging his legs. Sorey kneels down to give the boy a proper hug. It’s not unusual for Malaks, especially little ones, to have little to no concept of personal space. It’s best just to humor them. Silva pulls back and gets a good look at him. “You look like you need healing,” he says and starts casting an arte before Sorey stops him. 

“No, Silva, I’m fine. Just a little tired,” He tells the boy. “I saw something scary last night and I couldn’t sleep.” 

“Oscar saw something scary too! He found it under a house!” Silva exclaims. When Sorey stands to his feet, he finally sees Oscar sitting at the table. He’s not dressed in his uniform and looks akin to death. He tries to smile and wave before Rose and Alisha instantly step into his line of sight. Richard’s letter  _ did _ say that Alisha and Rose would meet him at the church but he thought they’d be downstairs with the demons. 

“How come Silva gets a hug first and I don’t?” Rose says with her hands on her hips. The knot in Sorey’s chest loosens somewhat as Rose wraps her arms around him and squeezes. She’s not hugging him, she’s checking to see how skinny he’s gotten. Without asking, she grabs his face and inspects him from right to left. Sorey doesn’t fight it but Alisha is a little more trepidacious. 

“Rose, he’s…” 

“Pale as hell? Yeah, I noticed.” Rose says with a frown. She lets go of his face and sighs. “Seems to be going around.” She looks over to Oscar whose dark eye bags provide a stark contrast to his pale  _ everything else _ . 

“You know if Lhant’s not treating you well all you have to do is tell us. I’ll give Lord Asbel what-for.” Alisha says giving him the same kind of hug Rose did. She gives him a small, comforting pat as everyone takes their seats. 

“There will be no what-for today, Alisha.” Eleanor says drily. She gives the younger Shepherd another once over. “She is right though.”

“I’m just tired.” Sorey brandishes Old Reliable. “A lot happened yesterday.” Rose and Alisha collect themselves, remembering the somber occasion. Sorey notes that there are quite a few empty chairs. “Are we waiting for anyone else?” 

“Yes, besides Lord Asbel and His Majesty; Dr. Mathis will be joining us.” Eleanor explains. Oscar rolls his eyes. “Don’t, Oscar. Jude is not that bad.” 

“I never said Jude was  _ bad _ ,” Oscar says defensively. ‘It’s just hard to cope with his insistent interest in Silva.” Ever the helpful sort, Silva trots around serving oolong tea to everyone, caring nothing for the conversation. No one says anything as he spills a good bit of it on the table. Oscar thanks the boy with a pat on the head. “Half or not, it’s strange for an Elympion to be so interested in Malaks. Especially one like him.” 

“He could be a little pushy when Mikleo was around.” Sorey agrees in the nicest way possible. “Does he know anything about the holes? How many have you found?”

“Five, not including the one in Lhant.” Alisha says. “We’ve quarantined some of the areas involved but others aren’t so lucky. We haven’t had a case of daemonblight like what happened in Lhant but we are on high alert at all times. I’m sure you saw the harbor this morning.” Rose looks like she wants to add something but clearly thinks better of it as she takes a few giant gulps of her tea. 

“We’ve tried to purify them, but there’s no Eleth, so the Malevolence just keeps coming back and Oscar…” Eleanor glances at Oscar whose hands are shaking too badly to drink properly. “...is overworked.” 

“What about the other Shepherds?” Sorey gives Oscar a sympathetic pat on the hand.

“They struggled too but some of them can’t even touch the Malevolence without getting overwhelmed.” Oscar looks sheepishly up at Eleanor when she sighs ruefully. “I’ve tried to contact Teresa for assistance but Gand’s recent policy changes have made things  _ difficult _ .” Oscar takes his hands from Sorey’s and hides them under the table. “I didn’t start seeing things until two days ago but I haven’t been right ever since.”

“What did you see?” Rose asks, unbidden. Alisha pinches her. The couple argues briefly as Sorey and Oscar try to answer at the same time. Sorey lets Oscar go first.

“I saw…” He hesitates before looking at Eleanor. “After the war...my mother...used to have these episodes of terror, she would scream and lash out at anyone who touched her. I didn’t quite understand them when I was young. So once when I tried to touch her, she hit me. That’s how I remember it. _ It’s what happened _ . I  _ know _ my memory of it is  _ correct _ .” Oscar bends his head. “But what I saw made me doubt it. It felt so real. I could feel the pain like it’s been there all along. Not to sound cavalier but I think I would remember if my mother tried to kill me.” There’s a quiet “holy shit” from Rose. “I kept trying to get away but she kept…” Oscar turns a bit green and takes a sip of his tea. “I’m sorry…” After he collects himself, he looks to Sorey who hesitates. He’s not ready to go into detail in front of Oscar and Eleanor. 

“It distorted my memories of things too. First I was with Mikleo then...” Sorey corroborates Oscar’s claims with a nod. “...but then....something came up from the ground and just…” He can’t quite describe it. His throat still burns. He remembers the shadows gouging out his eyes and ripping his throat from the inside. Worst of all, he remembers the sight of Mikleo’s cold, lifeless eyes and the sounds of the screams around him. Everything he loves in the world died with Mikleo while everything else was swallowed by darkness and violence. 

_ The end of the world. _

“Sorey?” Rose’s voice is like a thunder crack. Firmly back in reality, he sees all four pairs of eyes staring at him with the utmost concern. Did he trail off in mid-sentence? Blinking furiously, he realizes there are tears in his eyes. He hurriedly wipes them with his sleeve.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m fine. It was just...very disturbing,” Sorey replies thinly. “I’m fine.” Everyone glances at each other and wonders how long he’ll keep lying. “But it was just like Oscar said. I know what actually happened that night, but the Malevolence took my memories and well...destroyed them. It’s nothing like what actually happened. It was a nightmare come to life.” Rose offers him a tea napkin. He uses it to blot his eyes. “Asbel thinks that The Prisoner knows something else about the holes, but she won’t talk to anyone but Asbel or the King.”

“She’s not doing anything but negotiating her release.” Rose says, ever the resident skeptic.

“I don’t know…” Sorey says glancing dubiously at Eleanor who stops drinking her tea in mid swallow. The rest follow then look back at Sorey, concerned. “The Prisoner thinks she’s Velvet Crowe.” 

“Excuse me?!” Eleanor squeaks incredulously. “That’s tantamount to blasphemy.” She slams her tea down so hard the cup nearly breaks. 

“That’s what I thought at first.” Sorey says with his hands up in mock surrender. “But I’ve given it some thought. She’s come into contact with this Malevolence too. If it affected me and Oscar so badly after reaching it  _ once _ then it could’ve warped her mind to make her think she’s the real Velvet Crowe if she came into contact with it  _ more _ than once.” Eleanor’s death grip on her tea loosens just a bit. “I mean...she  _ is _ a Therion.” 

“Pitiable creatures.” Oscar mutters under his breath. 

“It wasn’t unusual for them to lose their minds to insanity.” Sorey says. “Even though I’ve never seen one think they’re an entirely different person, it’s not impossible.” Eleanor takes a long time to consider Sorey’s explanation. To his credit, everything sounds entirely plausible. However, Lord Asbel’s letter  _ explicitly _ states that Lhant’s Prisoner is from Gand or of Gandese descent. Velvet died shortly after the war and thousands of pilgrims crowded Gandese cities from Ladylake to Izuchi to pay their respects. Even if this woman faced some terrible mental trauma, there’s no way she could forget something so prevalent.

“Velvet was a dear friend of mine,” Eleanor postulates. “All of Gand mourned her but none moreso than me.” Normally, one would think she’s making excuses but it’s true. Eleanor was never able to get through her old friend’s eulogy when the time came. “Her body was too badly damaged for us to see it. Her casket was closed during the procession. A lot of people in Gand believe she’s still alive as Malak somewhere. It’s a sacrilege but if she’s from Gand like Lord Asbel claims then she knows the theories. Remember Sorey, this woman killed someone in broad daylight with no remorse. We don’t even know if she knew it was another Therion. It’s _ just as possible  _ that she’s trying to manipulate your doubt even if you never really spoke with her.” 

“But I want to.” Sorey insists. “Regardless of whether or not she’s lying, I know what she went through.” Rose and Alisha exchange uneasy glances. “The Armatus Trials were nothing compared to what happened to the Therions. They were made to do horrible things. A lot of them didn’t survive like we did. The rest took their own lives after the war. If Elympios is still trying to make them, we need to know where and why. We should help her.” They all sigh, having seen this coming. 

“Sorey, I know how you feel.” Alisha says and for the first time it doesn’t ring hollow. Even though she escaped the trials, she knows what Fendelian captivity was like. “But she could be beyond help. Regardless, she isn’t human. We can’t let her interact with people normally.” 

“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. I would at least like to speak with her.” Sorey presses. “Even if she didn’t mean to, she still protected Lhant from a menace. That Therion could’ve planted more holes and we’d be in a worse situation than we are now. Everyone - regardless of what they are - deserves a chance to say their peace.” A thick silence follows until Oscar sighs into his tea,

“You really are too soft, Sorey.” He says. “If we gave everyone a second chance, then there would be no need for the Confinement Chamber. Regardless of what happened to her she’s a daemon. They exist to be purified or die.” 

“Then we should try to purify her.” Sorey replies. Oscar chokes. They hear a knock on the door over Oscar’s coughing. A nun pokes her head in. 

“Your highness, Lady Sparrowfeather. The doctor and Mr. Lowell are here.” She says. 

“We’ll be there in a moment.” Alisha says as she and Rose get to their feet. She looks back at her guests, “I’ll meet you all in the Confinement Chamber with Dr. Mathis.” Before they leave Alisha adds one more thing, “Lady Eleanor, please don’t let Sorey get carried away.” Sorey sighs in defeat as the royal couple leaves to take care of business. Sorey takes a drink of his oolong only to realize that Oscar and Eleanor are staring at him. 

“Is it really so important to you? It’s unlike you to get so passionate; and in front of Her Highness and her Lady, no less.” Oscar asks. “Are you sure you’re alri…”

“I’m  _ fine _ .” Now it’s Sorey’s turn to slam his cup down. Only his cup actually splits in two. Luckily, it’s empty. Embarrassed, Sorey buries his face in his hands. “I...I’m sorry. I just…everyone keeps asking me that.” Cheria asked him when he woke up this morning. Hubert asked him at breakfast. Lady Kerri asked him when he proceeded to choke on said breakfast. Asbel asks him everytime he makes the mistake of wandering into the man’s line of sight. People don’t ask him if he’s alright for his sake. They want to know if he’s going to be a burden. 

“It’s okay to  _ not _ be fine, you know.” Oscar advises. That is absolutely  _ not true _ . The minute Sorey says he’s in pain or upset, everyone is on him like flies to a carcass because he’s  _ so fragile _ . It’s not his job to be taken care of, it’s supposed to be the other way around. He knows what he’s missing but no one is willing to hear it.

“I think I’m just a little homesick actually.” Sorey sighs and slumps in his chair. “It’s been nearly six years since I’ve been back in Izuchi. Three since I’ve seen Mikleo. Do you think after all this is over, Asbel will let me go see him?” It’s an entirely benign question and yet Oscar and Eleanor pause to look at each other worriedly. He and Mikleo used to communicate without speaking too. It’s so easy to tell what the other is thinking. 

“Sweetheart, are you sure that’s the best idea?” Eleanor asks. Her sickly sweet tone wills Sorey to his feet. He is  _ done _ with this conversation. He hides his frown with a fitful stretch.

“You’re right, it wouldn’t be wiser to stick around. Mikleo did say that he needed space, after all.” That is  _ not at all  _ what Mikleo said when he left Hyland but Sorey’s oaths to his other half are greater than his oaths to Windor. “I know it’s ill-advised but can we please go to the confinement chamber?” He says, desperate to change the subject. “I at least want to speak with her before Dr. Mathis does.” There’s a pause and then,

“Fine.” Eleanor knows that having Jude here will only complicate things. “We can at least ingratiate ourselves to her for additional questioning.” Sorey will take what he can get. Oscar is in no shape to deal with daemons so they leave him to rest. “Are you sure about this, Sorey?”

“No, but it won’t hurt to try.” Sorey replies without looking at her. Every resident clergyman has the door to the sub-basement but only the highest ranking ones have access to the Confinement Chamber. Very few parishioners know about this place. The tunnels under Windor are half the reason there are no basements here. Many of them have collapsed or flooded but the royal family reinforced several archways and floors. Any tunnels left standing lead directly to the castle. With their tumultuous past, these tunnels have seen many assassinations, surprise ambushes and kidnappings. Naturally, the church retaliated and sealed off any tunnels leading directly to their sub-basement. Nevertheless, the ever-resourceful Windor Family still finds their way inside. They still don’t know how King Dorlan was assassinated.

“This just doesn’t make sense. All of Gand mourned Velvet’s loss. Even Lord Artorious was beside himself.” There was a lot of debate over whether or not Sister Crowe would have wanted a funeral at all, being such a humble person. People expressed outrage over her extravagant casket. Many people doubted that she was even in it. However when the day came, pilgrims from all over came to Gand to pay their respects. They filled the streets with Princessias and sang hymns as her white and gold casket rumbled through the city. Lord Artorius stood vigil while Lady Eleanor tried to make it through the eulogy. She wept in his arms in front of everyone. Rumor has it, Maotelus stopped talking. Sorey and Mikleo are just one of the many who joined the clergy the next day. They are one of the few who made it through the first year. “That day lives so clearly in my mind, it was like losing my mother all over again.” Eleanor unlocks the chamber’s heavy oak and steel door. It takes both of them to push it open. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” 

There haven’t been many cases of Daemonblight in Windor since the war, but the cells still stand. They are the perfect size for a Therion. This place is far more sturdy than Lhant’s tiny prison. The woman calling herself Velvet Crowe is bound to the floor, free to move but on a tight leash. She paces like a lion waiting for an unsuspecting visitor to stick their hand inside. No one bothered to remove the face covering and she can’t lift her hands high enough to do so. 

When he spoke with Asbel at breakfast, he said she looked entirely unremarkable, maybe even normal. Heavy chains notwithstanding, Sorey would have to agree. Long black hair, average height, built like a sailor, she even walks with a wide gait that would keep her steady on a ship. If not for her unlucky lot in life, you’d probably see her sitting on the harbor with an apple in one hand and friend in the other. However, there’s one thing Sorey notices that Asbel didn’t. Even with her face covered, rage molts off her in droves. It feels like Malevolence. It’s almost visible. He swallows, suddenly getting the feeling that this cell won’t hold her if she changes her mind. 

“I made a deal with the Lord of Lhant. I’m only talking to the king.” She mutters from under her sheet.

“We didn’t come to ask you any questions just yet.” Sorey says. “Are you thirsty?” Eleanor glares at him dubiously. He doesn’t look back, knowing he already contradicted himself. 

“Are you that shepherd Asbel told me about? Shepherd Sorey?” Velvet asks, not stopping in her pacing. 

“Yes.” Sorey replies. Honestly, she didn’t expect him to answer. 

“Color me shocked. He told me you knew what Therions were. Funny, I thought no one knew about them. Especially not a priest.” He can practically hear her sarcastic smile under the sheet. Sorey isn’t afraid of her, not if she suffered the same ordeal he did. Fendel’s atrocities still live inside him. They made her into something inhuman. He understands her. 

“I’m an Elympion Spy.” Sorey replies, trying to match her attitude. Crowe lets out a mirthless laugh, long and raspy. She stops pacing and stalks up to the bars. He’s taller than her. Eleanor places a warning hand on his shoulder. He pretends he doesn’t feel it. 

“Don’t try to Friend and Foe me, kid. I’ve been around the block a lot longer than you.” Crowe replies. “What do you want?”

“Nothing.” Sorey insists. He removes his glove revealing Fendel’s Proof of Bondage. It’s covered in scars but never goes away. Ignoring Eleanor’s protests, he sticks his hand through the bars, low enough for Velvet to see. “I’m a product of Fendel just like you. I was chosen for the Armatus Trails. I know what it’s like to be turned into something you’re not. Please,” He says. “I only want to help.” Velvet doesn’t answer right away. Sorey pulls his hand back and puts his glove back on.

“How old are you?” Velvet doesn’t ask. She demands. 

“Twenty-five. Why?” Sorey replies. 

“How long have you been a Shepherd?” She doesn’t bother explaining herself but Sorey obliges her anyway.

“Six years. I’ve been serving as Lhant’s Grand Shepherd for about three years now.” He replies. 

“You’re the youngest shepherd I’ve seen.” It’s not a compliment. “You’re too soft for the clergy. Get out while you can.” Sorey’s blood runs cold. She’s not the first person to tell him that. 

“Give it up, Sorey.” Eleanor admonishes gently. “We don’t have to bargain with her. Let’s just wait for the King to get here. I promise I’ll ask him to let you speak to her before Jude does.” Shaken, Sorey nearly takes her up on the offer but then,

“Eleanor?” The change in Velvet’s voice must’ve triggered something in Lady Eleanor because she goes stock still. She looks like she’s been slapped. Velvet gets close enough to the bars to grab them. “Eleanor, is that you?” It’s not so much a question as it is a demand. Before her brain catches up to her body, Eleanor reaches up and tears the veil off of Crowe’s face. Sorey sees the face of a Gandese woman he doesn’t know: young, heart shaped, razor sharp cheekbones and golden eyes. Eleanor sees the twisted face of her oldest friend. This woman,  _ this imposter _ , is  _ nothing _ like the sweet, sisterly Velvet Crowe who taught her service and tenderness. There is no love in those eyes, no gentleness in those caged hands or laugh lines around her lips. Her voice is cruel and sounds nothing like the tuneless humming she so often heard as the smell of freshly baked quiche wafted around the room. Tears fill her eyes but she can’t look away from the mockery. 

“Who are you.” It’s not a question.

“You know who I am.” Crowe says, unmoved. “Eleanor…”

“Shut up!” Now it’s Sorey’s turn to be shocked. Lady Eleanor never shouts. “How dare you. How  _ dare _ you!” The tears fall from her eyes in streams. “You are  _ not _ Velvet! She was my sister in faith! I  _ loved _ her! I won’t let you disrespect her memory with this cheap mockery!” She attempts to reach into the bars but Sorey intercepts her before she can do something foolish. “Let go of me!” Blinded by rage, she smacks his face in retaliation, nicking him with her ring. At the sight of his blood, she comes to her senses. Sorey watches the blood drain from her face and her eyes go wide. She’s not just angry, but horrified, frightened and disgusted all the same time. Overcome with panicked gasping, she takes off for the stairs. Sorey pleads with her to wait and darts after her. He realizes what just happened. Lady Eleanor just saw a ghost.

“Wait.” Velvet says. Sorey stops, knowing he shouldn’t. “Are you Eleanor’s protege?” 

“I used to be, but I left.” He answers, looking back. Velvet looks different now, like an actual prisoner. He never saw Sister Crowe with his own eyes. Artorius’ Throne isn’t a place for children but even when he got older, only Malaks were allowed entry. They said that she gave her life defending the Maotelus and Innominat the day they vanished from The Throne. After that, Izuchi started banning pilgrims from certain holy sites and Gand started retreating into itself. That’s why he and Mikleo left Gand in the first place. They knew they’d never be able to travel like they’d always wanted to if they stayed. They were fine for a year. Then Mikleo’s nightmares started. Sister Crowe is Gand’s lynchpin. Everything begins and ends with her death. She changed everything. “You’re not lying, are you?” 

Velvet doesn’t reply. She walks away from the bars and sits on the meager little cot. With one final glance she leaves him with a warning, 

“Remember what I said."   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter than normal for story flow. Tumblr: doctorcanon and ah_doctorcanon on twitter. However: there's now a Tales of Alharis hashtag if you wanna talk about stuff. #talesofmashup on Twitter and Tumblr. I'm also working on some


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember the Graphic Violence, Child Death and Animated Corpse tags.

Sorey climbs back up the stairs in a daze caring nothing for his bleeding face. Velvet Crowe was almost ninety when she died. Even if she did survive, she would be pushing one hundred. He follows Lady Eleanor’s gasping sobs and finds her desperately trying to catch her breath as Oscar and Silva helplessly try to calm her down. It seems Oscar learned nothing from his mother’s episodes. No matter how calmly you ask someone to quiet down, it tends to only exacerbate panic. Sorey doesn’t ask before moving him aside but Oscar is grateful for the intervention regardless. Breathlessly, Eleanor looks up at Sorey’s face and the blood streaming down his cheek.

“Oh Gods, I’m so sorry, Sorey…” She sobs. Eleanor isn’t a violent person by nature. He doesn’t say anything in response as she hugs him tightly. He clearly remembers her scolding him for doing the same to a parishioner but he’ll mind the details when she calms down. 

“Don’t worry about it, Lady Eleanor. Here, just follow my breathing.” He takes deep breaths and she tries to follow. She rocks in his arms hard enough to push him over but Oscar is at his back keeping them both planted. 

“It can’t be…” Eleanor mutters softly. “It _can’t_ be...” Oscar glances at Sorey who just shakes his head. It’ll be impossible to explain with her in such a state. They wordlessly agree that they should get her to her room before someone sees. 

“Lady Eleanor?” Or not. 

Not only have Alisha and Rose come back but she’s caught up with Dr. Mathis, Lord Asbel, His Majesty and the mercenary from this morning. Sorey turns to shield Lady Eleanor from view. Having suffered through several fits of panic himself, he knows she’ll be terribly embarrassed. 

“What happened?” Why does every question from Asbel sound like a demand? 

“I think if you all stand back, she might be able to answer.” Yuri says. Everyone turns back to him like they didn’t expect him to still be here. “I mean, she doesn’t exactly look like she’s in a position to say much of anything.” Asbel glares at Yuri like he would to a child who’s spoken out of turn. Yuri remains unmoved, knowing he’s right. 

“Sorey, what happened to your face?” Asbel asks. He has a small epiphany. “Did Crowe do this?” He already has his hand on his sword. 

“Asbel, please,” Ricahrd says. “Lady Eleanor is clearly in distress. Give her a moment.” Asbel reluctantly backs down as Eleanor peels herself from Sorey and wipes her face as best she can. Her breathing is even but her hands are still shaking. Sorey takes them in his. He’s such a kind young man. She can’t believe she lashed out like that. 

“I’m sorry, everyone.” She says stepping around him. “I’m fine now. We received quite a nasty shock in the time you’ve been gone. I’m afraid in my panic, I struck Sorey with my ring hand.” Everyone seems a little disturbed. 

“But this does have to do with what’s going on, right?” Asbel presses. Yuri rolls his eyes. Eleanor tries to wipe her face again and nods mutely. Her heart still beats out of control. Deep down past all the shock and horror, Eleanor tries to tame the hope that’s blooming amid the adversity. 

“Yes, we spoke with the prisoner on our own.” her voice is quite shaky. She needs to sit down. She can’t put her shock into words. She can barely comprehend what she just saw. However, her confusion pales against her duty as Grand Shepherd. She must be careful about her words. She manages to silence her screaming mind and says, “Regardless of whether or not she was lying, The Prisoner _does_ look _exactly_ like Velvet Crowe.” 

“What?” Asbel bleats. “That’s _impossible_. Sister Crowe would be nearly a hundred by now. She has to be an imposter, there no way she’d look that young.” 

“Actually…” Dr. Mathis has been filled in on the situation but judging by everyone’s expressions they don’t exactly think he’s qualified to have an opinion. “...Sister Crowe was an attendant to two of the most powerful Malaks ever. People who are tethered to Malaks can live a very, very long time. I mean, how do you think Captain Aifread lived for so long? He was tethered to a Malak. King Rashugal? Malak. It’s perfectly plausible to think that maybe she didn’t age as much as she should’ve.” Jude’s theory is met with silence. “Or she could be an imposter, you know.” 

“No, you’re correct, doctor.” Eleanor says. Jude smiles at the validation before remembering the situation. “Most high ranking nuns cover their faces with veils but I was very close to Velvet up until the time of her death. She took her veil off several times around me. She looked very young. Just over thirty, maybe younger.” She oscillates on her heels for a long moment before confessing, “I myself am over sixty.” Everyone tries their best not to react poorly until Yuri says,

“Holy shit,” In the middle of a church. With accusing eyes on him he stammers, “Ah I mean, you look _great._ ” It’s true, Eleanor seems to be about Asbel’s age maybe younger.

“I’m only tethered to Maotelus, though.” Eleanor says. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Oscar or Sorey stopped aging the more they work with their Malaks.” Oscar and Sorey glance dubiously at each other. “Please, keep this to yourselves. It’s not common knowledge for the safety of the Malaks. Who knows what people would do to them if they gave them a chance at immortality?” 

“So you’re saying that that woman - _who killed someone in my territory, mind you_ \- is the honored Sister Velvet Crowe who died a decade ago?” Asbel can’t remember the last time he sounded so skeptical. 

“I hate to admit it, but I agree with Asbel.” Rose adds. Asbel takes no offense. “It sounds plausible, but even though no one ever saw her face, she has a _major_ reputation. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around someone known for being so gentle and humble, killing in cold blood.” 

“Hence my um...episode.” Eleanor says. Everyone mutters in understanding. “Regardless, we’ll need to confirm her identity.” 

“I can take some blood samples…” 

Jude doesn’t get to finish that thought.

Clanging bells start to cry throughout Windor. They start from far away then crawl closer to the church, the center of the city. A panicked nun rushes between them and down the hallway. However, she takes the staircase on the opposite end up to the bell tower. Seconds later, the cathedral’s bells ring. The parishioners panic. 

“What’s going on?” Yuri asks. 

“A Daemon sighting.” In seconds, the Cathedral is in absolute pandemonium. People rush past them and further into the church, tripping over pews and abandoning their children to save them themselves. The guards follow protocol, rushing outside to tell everyone who can’t make it to the church to find the nearest knight, assist their neighbors and lock themselves indoors. One of the cathedral shepherds panics and follows the frantic crowd, dropping his staff and leaving his Malak to call helplessly after him. Another Shepherd screams as a ghastly creature covered in viscous shadow and radiating malice climbs through the cathedral’s stone floor like it’s been there all along. It used to be a fox now it’s a formless monster with no memory of the happiness of hunting with their skulk. It only wants to kill and infect. 

“Impossible…” Oscar mutters. “This is _hallowed ground_.” He scoops Silva up and the Malak clings to him, burying his face in his shoulder. The creature lets out a head splitting cry that brings Sorey to his knees. It’s just like the screams in his vision; the cry that will end everything. It affects everyone. Mostly everyone is simply dazed but a few stumble around confused and start attacking people around them. One of the Shepherds, Erik, takes the solid bronze candlestick still lit and full of oil from the altar and charges Oscar with a cry. With no weapon and no time to cast an arte, Oscar turns to protect Silva. Erik cracks him in the face in retaliation. The oil sprays everywhere, igniting his hair, face and part of his clothes. He crumbles to the floor screaming. Crazed and confused, Erik continues beating Oscar but the latter braces himself over Silva refusing to let the man hurt him. Eleanor grabs Erik by the waist and throws him to the ground. The Candlestick falls from his hand extinguished and empty. When he scrambles back up, she picks up the altarpiece and gives him a very calculated whack to the face, knocking him unconscious. Luckily, he was only confused and not blighted. 

Oscar clings to life, bleeding and burning but Silva is unharmed. Weeping uncontrollably, he clutches at his caretaker and tries desperately to wake him up. Asbel and Yuri are already at the door, trying to keep the daemon at bay. 

“Alisha, take Oscar.” Richard commands. “Rose, you take Erik. Lady Eleanor we’ll round up anyone that can walk and take them downstairs into the sub-basement there’s a way to the castle down there.” He turns to Dr. Mathis who’s helping a woman who fell backward over pew. She quickly runs off without thanking him. “Doctor, can you fight?” He asks. Jude spies the metal staff one of the Shepherds left behind. He rushes to pick it up and nods. “Good. Go help Asbel and secure the chapel.” Even though he hesitates, Jude isn’t going to disobey a direct order from a king. “Sorey, you…” Sorey is no longer on the ground. In fact, he’s already helping Asbel and Yuri. He doesn’t know if that’s the best idea, but he’s in no position to stop him. “Alright! Everyone follow me!” He shouts in his most commanding voice. His frail health doesn’t stop him from being king. Before he disappears down the way, he adds. “Asbel!” The man looks back for just a moment. “Make sure you’re close behind.” Asbel nods and the fight is on.

“Protect Sorey as he casts, he’ll be able to purify it.” Asbel says to Yuri.

“You sure?” Yuri responds. “All we need to do is get it out of here and get anyone else to safety. “Animal daemons aren’t like the others. If they don’t have a target, they’ll eventually just die.” 

“Look around you, Lowell. _Everything_ is a target.” Asbel snaps back. 

“They sense _movement_. I’m from Zaphias, man. I know Animal daemons.” Yuri won't be doubted by a rich man who’s used to being in charge. The creature lunges and Jude is the first one to land a hit using the once holy staff as a club. 

“I’m sure anything we can do will help.” The Doctor declares. There are still some people who can’t make it downstairs. They can’t waste this time arguing. White and blue circles open up beneath Sorey. Yuri doesn’t remember artes feeling so creepy. Regardless, he joins Jude in his assault taking one of his hatchets and hurling it into the creature’s head. Now off balance Asbel takes his father’s sword and a flash of light comes out of the scabbard blinding it. With a floor to shoulder swing, he throws the thing out of the cathedral doors. Sorey burns the daemon with Silver flame and it tries to scream again but it’s little more than a death rattle.

Ignoring Asbel and Yuri’s protests, Sorey runs toward the weak little fox. It’s paws are badly wounded and won’t be able to hunt. Starvation is probably what caused it to be blighted in the first place. Yuri sighs irritably. They don’t have time for this. Jude, however, seems to think otherwise and joins Sorey in healing the thing. 

“Come on, you two. There will be more if we don’t hurry.” Asbel admonishes. As if mocking Asbel words, the late afternoon sky grows dark. The fox starts to yip frantically and struggle in Sorey’s arms.

The Cathedral square is already in absolute chaos. With the Cathedral secure, people rush past them and into the church. Those who don’t panic follow King Richard’s protocol and shut themselves in their businesses and nearby houses. They hear the knights’ shouting from the five streets leading to the church. The rest of the Shepherds are nowhere to be found. 

They hear it before they see it: a hulking mess of a breast that was probably a poor little stray lost in the quarantined areas of the city. Now, it’s toothy maw drips with miasma that burns holes into the cobblestone. It’s fur is now black and full of mange. It towers over them as it howls into the sky. Smaller wolves come crawling out of the shadows and chase the remaining townspeople. A woman faints. Yuri can’t get to her before the giant wolf crushes her under foot. The shadows claw against barred doors until they exhaust themselves and disappear. Their master looms above the four men. This thing is big enough to break the Cathedral’s doors. It’s going to follow the scent of the survivors to the tunnels. Not everyone can fight. They just need to hold the cathedral square until the streets are clear. 

“Well shit,” Yuri mutters. “Hey Sheps, can you purify something this big?” He’s from Zaphias. He cut his teeth on giant monsters. 

“I’ve done it before.” Sorey swallows. He doesn’t mention that he was unconscious for several hours afterward. “How long can you give me?” 

“Between the three of us?” Yuri looks at Asbel, clearly a seasoned veteran and Jude, a nerd with a big stick. “About five minutes without dying.” Sorey takes out a stack of talismans from his sleeves. They spiral around him, lighting themselves one by one. 

“Okay, do your best.” 

The daemonwulf senses the biggest threat and charges Yuri. The mercenary meets the charge and side steps the creature before burying his hatchets into its front flank. While it’s knocked off balance, Jude crashes his staff into the creature’s face with surprising force. Asbel’s sword extends, slashing the wolf from the right side. Perhaps if they hit it from both sides, they’ll overwhelm it. When it comes to Animal Demons, they’re as big as they are dumb. It rolls to its feet and rallies with a howl. Sorey nearly passes out. Yuri feels like someone drove a nail through his skull. The minute he shakes it off, he sees Jude and Asbel topple it over with a double Demon Fang. Smaller wolves spawn, heeding the cry for help. Sorey hears the doors of the cathedral shut behind him but doesn’t risk a look back. He has to concentrate. 

The smaller wolves make a suicide charge for Jude and knock him off his feet into the wall. Before the daemonwulf can stalk over to his prey, Yuri hurls both axes into its face. It growls and bites at him but his bodhi blastia glows red and the wolf’s hatchet wounds explode, throwing it off its feet. The hatchets return to his hands with a wave. Asbel rushes to help Jude. 

“Now Sorey!” 

“By order of Maotelus, I release thee!” Sorey cries. Yuri suddenly realizes he’s wrong. Perhaps the kid shepherd really does have some authority after all. The wolf bursts into holy fire and shrinks until there’s nothing left but a mangy dog with a wounded snout. It lays on the ground exhausted. Sorey does the same sinking to his knees breathing heavily. When the other three run up to him he tries to waylay their concern. “No, please. I’m fine.” He says. He looks over at Jude. “What about you, are you okay?” 

“I’m only bruised, I’ve had worse.” Jude says with a shrug. Asbel tries to push the doors open, but they won’t budge. 

“What the hell?” He didn’t even realize they’d been closed in the first place. They heave when he pushes especially hard but all that tells him is the people they are trying to protect barred the door from the inside, locking them out.

“Uh...guys?” Jude says pointing down the road. When he was a student, he remembers doing tons of studies on the effects of Malevolence on animals. He’s never seen it quite on this scale. 

Crazed, daemonblighted animals come stalking up the steps to the square. They aren’t full daemons, but there are so many of them: foxes, dogs, cats and even deer. Their teeth sharpen, their fur raises and their moaning cries creep ever closer. Most of them aren’t wild animals either. They have collars with names like Princess and Mittens. 

“I can’t purify this many at once.” The tremor in Sorey’s voice makes Jude look back. The Shepherd has gone pale from fear and exhaustion. He’s their biggest asset. They have to protect him. 

“Hey! There are more out here, let us in!” Yuri shouts, pounding on the door as he and Asbel try to force it open. The daemon creatures start creeping faster and Yuri is tired of taking chances. “Hey Sheps, what’s the punishment for defacing a holy site?” He asks.

“I’ll make an exception.” Sorey replies. Yuri takes his hatchet and starts hacking at the door leaving an X shaped divot in the wood. His blastia starts glowing and the four men shield their eyes from the splinters. There’s a dull explosion that manages to blow a big enough hole for Yuri to reach his arm in and lift the plank of wood holding the door shut. Just as they all clamor inside and shut the doors, a deer’s horn catches Yuri in the face and splits his forehead. They press the doors closed with their backs but with that hole in the door, nothing is going to keep it shut unless they barricade it with something else.

“Do you have any spells that can hold the door?” Asbel asks Sorey. He can’t keep asking him to exert himself like this but what choice do they have? If any of the shepherds are left, they aren’t helping. Sorey nods and takes another talisman out of his sleeve. The door heaves and he claws the cut Lady’s Eleanor’s ring made until it bleeds again. Using his fingers, he scrawls S-E-A-L in blood and plants it over the crease in the two doors. The doors glow purple and it’s stuck in time sealing everything, good and bad from coming through the door. They four men sink down in relief. Sorey is the only one that doesn’t get back up immediately. 

Yuri wants to spit. Shutting people out for the “greater good” and so quick to abandon one of their own; that’s the church he’s used to. The cathedral is in shambles. Pews and effigies have been knocked over in the mad dash for safety. Jude helps Sorey stand while Yuri and Asbel pile pews and altarpieces in front of the door, just in case. Sorey can’t catch his breath. A painful headache starts to nestle itself between his eyes. Jude doesn’t know what to do but Sorey is still bleeding so he can at least heal him as thanks. When he presses a glowing hand to Sorey’s cheek the other man jolts like he forgot he was there. 

“I didn’t know you could cast artes.” Sorey says, surprised. 

“I’m still half Reize Maxian.” Jude replies. “My spirix studies don’t affect my abilities.” 

“Where is everyone?” Yuri asks dusting off his hands. Asbel breezes past him to the East Corridor. 

“I heard Richard call everyone to the sub basement. There’s a tunnel that leads straight to the castle.” He says as the other three follow. 

“I thought the underground way was sealed off.” Sorey adds. Asbel gives him a look that promptly shuts him up. Yuri and Jude follow the two down the stairs. All Yuri can think of is how badly he wants out of this place. He can’t spend his entire search killing daemons. Worse yet, his quarry could already be dead. He can’t consider that possibility; not if Zaphias is going to survive the war. 

They come across more bodies as they descend. Two of them clearly fell down, most likely rushing and too busy to notice how sharp and narrow the stairs were. Unfortunately, they end up having to step over four dead bodies at the bottom. An old woman, a child and the two men that were clearly trying to help them; all of them trampled. The little girl’s broken body is covered in footprints and blood. Her eyes are open. She didn’t even realize she’d fallen before her neighbors stampeded over her like frightened cattle. Sorey stops. He knows he should keep moving but she couldn’t have been older than nine. Yuri raises no protests as Sorey bends down to pray for them. Jude suppresses the urge to vomit. Asbel can’t bear to look. 

“Awful…” Sorey moves the little girl’s body into a lying position. He places her broken hands over her chest and finds it’s still heaving. That’s impossible. The girl’s ribs are crushed. There’s no way she could breathe. Jerkily, she sits up with her back ramrod straight. 

“Sorey, run.” Yuri says. Sorey doesn’t hear him. The girl’s face breaks into an empty, face-stretching smile around her broken jaw. Her head swivels on its broken neck. “Run!” Yuri hauls Sorey to his feet and they start running down the rest of the corridor. The bodies heave themselves up, propelled by Malevolence. One of them grabs Jude by the foot and he falls face first onto the ground. Yuri cuts the corpse off of him while Asbel and Sorey try to pry the doors open. When they don’t give, it takes all four of them. They dash down the corridor of cells and past Velvet. 

“Something happen?” She asks casually. They don’t answer and just rush by her. The daemons seem frightened by the sound of her voice and stop. The Group runs to the back wall and Asbel searches for the mechanism to open the tunnels’ secret entrance. Jude walks to the other side of the hall and finally vomits. 

“Guys... “ Yuri looks at the bodies shambling in the doorway. He reaches up to throw a hatchet but Sorey stops him.

“Don’t!” 

“They’re already dead. I’m not letting these things _beat me to death_.” Yuri says. 

“They deserve to be laid to rest.” Sorey insists. 

“And what? Let you be a sitting duck if something bigger comes along? Let me handle this.” Yuri protests snatching his arm from Sorey’s cold grip.

“Fuck!” Asbel exclaims. Jude hobbles over to find Asbel bent over a steel mechanism hidden in one of the nearby bricks. “It’s jammed.” He growls. He doesn’t ask why Asbel knows where it is but it’s clearly been badly damaged, probably by people recklessly pulling on it. He inspects the wall and sure enough there’s a dusty outline of a door etched in the stone. They both attempt to pull together. It turns out Jude is rather strong. Perhaps too strong because the lever snaps in half. 

“Shit…” He mutters.

“Unlock this door.” Velvet demands. 

“What? No. You’re not going anywhere.” Asbel growls. He glances at the lock and frowns. “Besides, that cell is probably the safest place you can be right now. It’s more than you deserve.” 

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Velvet replies, not even glancing this way. She’s talking to Sorey who’s still holding onto Yuri. “Unlock this cell, or you’re never getting out of here.” For a moment, there are no convulsing corpses or daemonic pets scraping at their gates. There’s just two people who understand each other. Asbel’s angry protests fall on deaf ears. Sorey takes out one more talisman and places it on the lock. It can only be opened by another shepherd. It glows red and clicks open. Velvet breaks the chains herself. 

“Sorey, are you crazy?” Asbel roars reaching to grab him by the collar. Velvet stops him, standing between him and the shepherd. 

“Stand back.” She says. Asbel doesn’t move and draws his sword.

“Do what she says.” Yuri orders. He doesn’t care for Asbel’s fury. He only knows that there’s daemons at the door and apparently only one way out. “Do you wanna be stuck with the graveyard parade, man? Move!” 

“Come on, Lord Asbel.” Jude pleads. “We have to get out here.” He places both his hands on Asbel’s shoulders and the man tenses. Despite this, he lets Jude remove him from Velvet’s path but he doesn’t put his sword away. 

Velvet approaches the wall, messaging her wrists. She holds out her arm. It’s poorly bandaged and she wouldn’t let anyone from the prison rewrap it. With a bloodcurdling squelch, it mutates into a horrible, pulsating red claw. The corpse daemons back away in fear. Asbel ga.s with disgust. This is the claw that killed Major Victoria’s Imposter. It’s grotesque. The daemonic aura is so thick it drips off of her like blood. It’s so much bigger than her but she has full control as she reels back.

“Lethal Pain!” She crashes her massive claw into the wall and it crumbles revealing the caves beyond. She looks back to Sorey and the others. “I can only do that once. Let’s go.” Yuri is the first to move, followed by Jude and then finally Asbel. 

“Thank you.” Sorey says.

“Get moving.” Is all Velvet says as she points at the daemonblighted bodies. They aren’t cowering anymore. The creatures break into a run. Velvet grabs Sorey and lurches him forward. Asbel dashes ahead to take point. 

“Come on, it’s a straight shot to the castle.” He says before a daemonblighted bat flies into his face and knocks him off his feet. Yuri flings his hatchet into it and just like before the thing explodes. 

“Mr. Lowell, wait!”

“Sorey, I swear to fuck if you ask me to stop so you can purify something, I’m going to knock you out.” Yuri shouts. They had time to purify the wolves. The corpses are too fast. There are bound to be more bats. Sorey is already tired. They can’t just wait for him to purify things if they want to live. Jude helps Asbel to his feet. The Lord’s nose is broken. Blood streams down his chin and into his collar. He doesn’t have time to heal him. “Those things are a lot faster than the wolves. _Keep moving!_ ” They try to, but Sorey’s fatigue catches up to him. He’s already slower than the rest of the group. One of the corpses tackles him from behind. They’re already made impossibly stronger and faster by Malevolence, but this corpse was once a large man. Sorey chokes as its meaty fists savagely beat him. It grabs him by the hair. Sorey tries to grab the cadaver’s hands in retaliation. He has to purify this man, his soul can’t rest without it. His family will never see his remains. Another casting circle opens up beneath him. Yuri screams something. Sorey ignores him; he purifies things through touch all the time. The Daemon Corpse slams his head into the stone and everything goes back.

The circle vanishes. Velvet is just two seconds too late. Using her claw, she tears the creature’s head off and hurls the body into the encroaching corpses. They struggle and screech under their partner’s enormous weight. Frantic, Jude bolts over and checks Sorey’s vitals.

“He has a pulse.” Even Velvet breathes a sigh of relief. “But he’s barely breathing, my artes aren’t good enough to heal someone this bad. We have to hurry or he’ll die.” 

“I’ll carry him.” Asbel says immediately. 

“No, you have to lead the way,” Yuri declines. He is not in the mood to hear anymore from this man. “She can do it.” Jude is already gently loading Sorey onto Velvet’s back. Asbel opens his mouth to say more but the sight of the blood streaming down his young friend’s head wreaks any fight he has left in him.

“Let’s go.” 

The short reprieve lets them blaze them further down the tunnel. Asbel steals a look back but only sees Sorey and his limp body - the most vulnerable - in the hands of a killer. It takes the daemons only a few minutes to recover and start running after them again. Yuri swears because _godsdamnit he will not die here._ Flynn will have more than a black bordered envelope to remember him by. No matter what they said to each other before he left, he’s physically incapable of leaving that man alone. Jude just wants to go home. Luckily, they reach the light at the end of the tunnel. 

“Holy Lance!” Three beams of light streak past them, throwing the daemons off their feet once again. Once they’re through the door, it shuts behind them pushed by Alisha and Rose. It seems Tear is the one that cast the spell because she darts past them and places a paper talisman on the door. It glows purple, just like Sorey’s with S-E-A-L written in Lady Eleanor’s blood. They all sink to the floor in relief. 

“Is the fight over already?” Luke groans. He has one of Alisha’s spears. No one wants to ask about the blood it’s covered in. Tear sighs out her patience.

“Luke, that’s not what you’re supposed to ask after a fight.” She admonishes.

“Fine.” Luke groans petulantly and rolls his eyes. “Is everyone okay?” 

“No.” Comes Velvet’s blunt response as she eases Sorey off of her back, his blood on her shoulders. He’s deathly pale, bleeding from his face and neck. His ribs gouge and scrape his lungs. He tries to breathe around the bloody foam in his throat. He’s wearing too much for anyone to tell if his arm is broken but the blood spreads through his sleeve. It’s like when they first found him in Fendel. His body seems just as little and broken as it was then with a little Malak clinging to him pleading with him to stay alive. Mikleo is going to be furious with Asbel having put him in so much danger. He promised he’d keep Sorey safe. Tear curses and calls for Eleanor but kneels down and inspects him when she doesn’t get an immediate response. 

“Luke.” Tear says gingerly opening Sorey’s hanfu. Everyone blanches knowing the many bruises are where his ribs broke. “I need your help.” Luke, however, seems unmoved by the sight. 

“Why?” He shoots back. “He’ll be fine, it’s just bruises.” Yuri grabs Asbel and makes him back down before he can reply. 

“Now.” Tear demands. Luke gets the message but not without an impatient sigh. Luke sits on the other side of Sorey, opposite Tear and reluctantly holds his hands out. Tear takes them and starts to sing.

Jude has only heard the Hymn of Lorelai a few times in his life. Being the goddess that blesses travelers over harsh terrain, there aren’t many shrines to the goddess outside of countries like Fendel, Kimlasca and Elympios. This isn’t like normal artes, there are no rune circles or talismans. All Tear needs is her voice and Luke’s help. It’s almost like tethering. It’s said that the Order of Lorelai used to be an extension of the clergy. Hearing Tear’s song, he believes it. It’s so beautiful that he nearly forgets the circumstances. Sorey begins to glow. He sucks in a loud, sputtering gasp. Little splatters of blood choke him. As his body convulses, his unbroken hand searches for purchase. Velvet takes it and doesn’t look up at Asbel who practically foams at the mouth. 

“Stop, she’s healing him.” Jude insists. Asbel would disagree, he’s never seen artes that hurt that badly. Then again, he’s never seen Kimlascan artes before. Honestly, he thought they were like Elympions and couldn’t cast any artes at all. Roused into consciousness by the pain, Sorey blinks deliriously. He tries to speak but Velvet just places a hand on his head and shushes him gently. Her eyes are the first thing he sees so he holds onto the sparkling gold in the middle of the painful haze. 

Eleanor doesn’t come in until Tear is almost done. She’s flanked by Alisha who gasps at the sight of Sorey, splayed out and bloodied on the floor. The bruises are gone, but the Hymn of Lorelai doesn't do intricate work like head trauma and broken bones even with Luke’s help. Still, as she ends the song, the bruises start to fade. Sorey can at least breath without choking.

“There you all are.” Eleanor tries to pretend that she isn’t frantic. She thought they’d be along shortly, but when she realized they weren’t behind the crowd, she feared the worst. Looking at Sorey, she not so sure that it didn't. The rest of them are injured too. Asbel broke his nose. It’s still bleeding into his collar. Blood leaks from a cut on Yuri forehead. “What happened?” She bends down to Sorey who smiles weakly at the sight of her. Asbel opens his mouth to answer but Yuri puts a hand on his shoulder. He gives up, not in the mood or position to argue.

“We tried to get back into the church but someone barricaded the door,” Yuri reports. “We ended up having to use parts of the church to barricade it again.” He adds apologetically.

“I’m sure Origin Most High will forgive you.” Eleanor says. She turns her attention to Sorey and the woman holding his hand. She barely makes eye contact with her, it’s like looking into the sun. She must think of Sorey and her parishioners before indulging in selfish impulse. “Come, we need to get him to a bed.”

Despite Tear telling Luke to do it, Asbel carries Sorey. With all the robes he wears, it’s easy to forget that Sorey is so frail. He’s just like Richard. Whatever Fendel did to him lives in him like a parasite. He’s not as sickly, but who knows how long it will be until he is? Sorey's free hand clutches Asbel’s lapel and all the man can do is hold him tighter. He can’t help but feel a little bit of anger at the Shepherds who would rather run. Sorey is about ten years his junior but he may as well be another Sophie. He needs to be protected and just like Sophie, he failed. 

Windor Castle hasn’t suffered the same fate as the Cathedral. Very few daemons, if any got through. However, the halls are full of wounded. Some of them just want to hide. Asbel struggles to stay calm. The Soldier in him tells him that any of these people could be infected. The Lord tells him that defenseless civilians need shelter. He wonders if any of these people were thinking about _the defenseless_ when they trampled that little girl. Her parents might never get her body back. He recognizes many of the churchgoers. They line the hallways getting bandaged and comforting those more injured. Some of them panic at the sight of Sorey, a personification of their faith so injured. Sorey tries to speak to them but Asbel tells him to save his strength. Eventually, Sorey nods back into unconsciousness. 

Some parishioners pray and attempt to grab the ends of Sorey’s robe but Velvet’s intimidating presence is enough to ward them off. If they care so much now, they should’ve cared when that little girl got trampled. They lay him in one of the upstairs rooms, away from prying eyes. No one is in a hurry to leave as they watch Eleanor heal Sorey. Even Yuri can’t help but feel bad for yelling at him. The shepherds in Zaphias love the nobility too much to be down to earth, much less risk their lives to save someone. Sorey is made of sterner stuff. 

“Three days.” Velvet says suddenly. Everyone shares confused glances then back to Velvet as she takes a chair and sits at Sorey’s bedside. “The Scarlet Night is in three days starting tomorrow.” It takes a few seconds for the urgency to hit the rest of them and Alisha is out like a flash with Asbel and the rest of the men close behind leaving Eleanor and so-called Velvet alone. 

When Eleanor was a child, she didn’t understand scripture. The Advent of Lumalos, especially. Origin created the entire universe. Why would sacrifice so much of himself just to create such reckless and self destructive as humans just to make someone else happy? However, Velvet’s tutelage opened her eyes. Watching her former mentor and friend care for Maotelus and Innominat, she wanted to be just like her.

It’s easy to see how Sorey must’ve been inspired by Velvet’s message. In fact, he exemplifies it. He’s lucky he isn’t dead. That Blightcorspe could have smashed his head open or worse snapped his neck. He should’ve just tried to get away rather than attempt to purify it. She doesn’t train her Shepherds like that anymore. During the war, soldiers eager to prove themselves dressed in white and blue robes, made pronouncements and did everything they could to defend the name of the church. The records tell stories of these pyrrhic heroes but they were just meat for Fendel’s grinder. Sorey is already so frail. She thought letting him go to Lhant would be good for him. Now that he’s back and without Mikleo, he’s only gotten worse. If she had it her way, he’d be going back to Gand with Oscar and Silva.

Shepherds aren’t just priests, they foster the balance between Malak and Humans. They aren’t combat trained. They’re counselors, communicators and healers. As Grand Shepherd, she watches over all of them. Even though she prays to the bottom of her heart for them, she can’t help but feel that her younger Shepherds are too eager to give their lives away. It’s times like these where she yearns for the counseling of her mentor.

Velvet was never a shepherd. She didn’t have any talent for artes nor did she like them very much. She used to be a nun and caretaker for child Malaks after her parents died. What always impressed Eleanor is that Velvet wasn’t particularly remarkable. She has no great accomplishments or grandeur. She just wanted to help. She would help anyone who asked. She was compassionate, kind and a fantastic cook. She could be a little overbearing at times but Eleanor found it endearing even when Maotelus and Innominat didn’t. 

She just can’t believe that this woman sitting by Sorey’s bedside is actually _her_ Velvet. She can’t imagine ever seeing her so cold and hardened. Yet, the young and eager student in her dares to hope. She never got a chance to see her body. Artorius never told her how Velvet died. She’s a Grand Shepherd; she shouldn’t cast doubt on him. And yet, there is no way this woman could be anyone else. She heard of Asbel’s imposter but she can tell the difference between a human and daemon no matter how they were made.

“If you keep going he’ll go into Eleth Shock.” 

“I know.” Eleanor finds herself instantly defensive, going back to a time where Velvet used to tease her. “Sorey is different from most people. He can take it.” She stops her healing arte. Sorey sinks back into the covers looking far more comfortable. Velvet doesn’t reply so she tries again, “About your arm...it’s wrapped pretty badly, do you need it…”

“It’s fine.” Velvet replies flatly but Eleanor doesn’t miss the way she cradles it to her chest. She sighs and checks Sorey’s eyes. She spent most of her time on the blow to the head. It knocked him unconscious and the resulting bruising could’ve put pressure on the brain had Tear not intervened. It’s not wise to heal someone so soon after being healed by someone else but she couldn’t have him go the way of Oscar. You can’t heal what isn’t there. “You’ve improved.” Velvet appraises. Eleanor pouts like she hasn’t in almost ten years. 

“Of course I have, I’m Grand Shepherd.” She runs a hand through Sorey’s hair. “Even after he left Windor, he’s still under my care. He looks weak, but he can take it.” 

“You’re really taking this seriously.” Velvet says and Eleanor just can’t stand that teasing lilt in her voice. 

“I take everything seriously, Vel…” She catches herself, clamping a hand over her mouth as if to keep the name from leaping out. She can’t stand it anymore. She jumps to her feet and makes to leave the room. She doesn’t quite make it with Velvet right behind her. She only gets the door halfway open before Velvet shuts it with a gentle push. She takes Eleanor’s hand from the doorknob. Eleanor is weak. She prays Sorey stays asleep. She can turn back to the woman behind her. She’s so close she feels her breath on her neck. “You know who I am.”

“Prove it.” Eleanor retorts sharply. 

“You used to have pigtails.” Everyone knows that. Eleanor doesn’t turn around. “When you were sixteen, I gave you blue barrettes with yellow ribbons.” She needs more than that. “You like my quiche, but you would only eat it with cheese. You wouldn’t even consider eating it with spinach.” She winces, she used to be such a picky eater. “You used to make up lyrics to the songs I’d hum and you’d get mad because I never sang the same one twice.” That one is a knife to the heart. Tears spring to her eyes and she rests her head against the door. “We spent nearly three years on the Fiertia.” Eleanor goes cold. No one but she, Maotelus and Innominat know that. Velvet roughly turns her around, pressing her against the door. “You know deep down that Artorios would’ve never found my body without an imposter, you _saw_ me fall into the ocean.” She looks into Velvet’s eyes more the color of gold than the warm honey they used to be but in their depths, she sees it. “ _You know who I am_.”

She mourned Velvet for ten years. Now she’s here, right in front of her. She’s still alive. Artorius lied to her. Velvet Crowe, the woman whose death changed everything for Gand is alive and well. More importantly, she can still hug her dear friend. She nearly faints from joy. Her knees go weak and she throws her arms around Velvet’s waist sobbing freely and not caring if she wakes up Sorey or anyone else. 

“I can’t…” Eleanor sobs. “I can’t believe it. It’s really you.” She buries her face in Velvet’s threadbare clothes. “I hoped. I dreamed. But I never....I never…” She falls to pieces all over again and keeps crying until Velvet bends down to her level. “We...we have to tell everyone, we have to get you back to Gand. Artorius is…”

“Eleanor.” Velvet always says her name so kindly. “You can’t tell Artorius. You can’t tell anyone.” Eleanor seems confused.

“But you told....”

“They all think I’m lying. I did what I had to do to survive. Remember what Eizen said? You can’t hide unless you’re…

“...hiding in plain sight.” Eleanor finishes, nodding along. 

“No one else can know.” Velvet declares, taking Eleanor by the shoulders and shaking her a little for emphasis. Eleanor needs no further commands. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.” Eleanor replies. 

“I need a Sylphjay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's commented so far, you've really kept me going.


	6. Chapter 6

Windor Castle has seen its fair share of sieges but Malevolence is more insidious. Essentially, Malevolence is the absence or overflow of Eleth. It’s not a steady flow so small amounts are to be expected. It can cause any number of phenomena, like storms and floods. It even causes animals to grow to monstrous sizes. Before the war, it rarely affected humans. But now, not even royalty is spared. Like Sorey, Richard was chosen for the Armatus Trials. Malevolence latched onto his hatred and pain. They told him he went mad, but it was worse than that. It swallowed him and made him move and act in a way that wasn’t his own, a prisoner in his own mind. Old Man Geno must’ve felt the same. Even though he should, he can’t tell Asbel. His friend hasn’t said a word since the other shepherds dressed his, Yuri’s and Jude’s injuries. Alisha paces like a waiting lioness, with Rose, her sword, standing close by. Windor’s next royal family will have two queens. Emre sits on the throne, humming blithely, caring nothing for the carnage that just happened. Richard watches his city suffer and his friend don the armor of war once again. He wants to say the worst is over but he’s seen too much to know that’s never true.

“How’s Oscar?” Jude cracks the quiet with an innocent question but from that crack spills a round of uneasy glances and rueful sighs. The Shepherds seem particularly hesitant to answer. “Is he…?”

“No,” Richard says. “But his burns are severe. They weren’t able to heal his eyes; he went into Eleth Shock when Silva tried to heal him.” One of the Shepherds starts sniffling. “We’ve contacted his sister, Teresa. She’s coming from Gand to take him home. Oscar may have very well given his life to protect Silva."

“And Erik?”

“He’s back in his right mind but...” Richard doesn’t want to finish his sentence. “...the church doesn’t approve of his idea of repentance for his actions. He needs to be carefully monitored.” The implication is enough and everyone wades in the horror.

“We’ve been seeing more and more incidents like this one in Kimlasca. We lost the entire town of Engeve to a Daemonblight plague.” Tear reports quietly. Luke doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t seem to care. “By the time soldiers were able to respond, the entire village was dead.”

“Gods, how does Elympios even survive?” Asbel mutters, he’s not asking Tear but she answers anyway.

“Some cities are so contaminated that’s just how they live. Sometimes people just go on a rampage,” Tear replies as if it causes her physical pain. “When we first allied with Elympios, all we saw were machines and glittering cities. Human progress. I’m sure Fendel saw the same. But…” She glances at Luke who yawns. “...we got something else and now we’re practically being held hostage. Curtiss and Cecil are personal friends of ours.”

“If Asch hadn’t told them to say bad things about Bisley, they’d still be at home, y’know.” Luke complains. “He likes shiny things and he brags all the time. He’s just another stupid old man.”

“That stupid old man is responsible for killing a lot of people.” Asbel admonishes. Surprisingly, Tear agrees. 

“Don’t scold him.” Yuri groans, sore and exhausted. “He’s not wrong.” The truth doesn’t make the silence any less heavy. Yuri sits back, nursing his aching head. This is insane. He thought he’d be in and out of Windor within the day. Yes, Flynn did warn him that the situation in Windor was tenuous but he never imagined this. Hyland is supposed to be a pacifist nation but there’s talk of an impending Scarlet Night, an invasion and full-on Daemonblight. Flynn told him that he won’t have to fight his way out of Hyland, that he should be able to find his mark and get them the information they need then somehow make it back to Zaphias. Retrieval is his specialty, but he hoped they could keep the violence to a minimum. Unfortunately, it follows him wherever he goes. “So what now?” 

“Well for starters, you need to retrieve your person of interest, correct?” Richard asks. When Yuri nods, he adds, “So we’ll need a way to get us what we need in three days. Do you mind meeting us at another rendezvous point?” 

“As long as it’s secure.” Yuri replies. Richard and Asbel glance at each other and nod. Yuri ignores the tug at his heartstrings. Jude watches Yuri unconsciously fiddle with a plain wedding band hanging from the leather cord around his neck. There’s an inscription but Yuri glares at him, reminding him that it’s really none of his business. 

“Asbel can give us a secure location. You have my word that your target’s identity will remain confidential.” Richard says, Asbel backs him up with a nod. His opinion on mercenaries won’t cloud his judgment outside of polite conversation. 

“Done.” Yuri says. Looking to Asbel he asks, “I take it we’ll be meeting you in Lhant then?” 

“Yeah, that will make everything...easier.” Asbel says. Yuri might have his secrets but Asbel has his own. 

“Are you guys gonna kill your guy?” Luke asks, popping an eye open. 

“No.” Yuri says. “He’s just important.” 

“Oooooh. Cool. Have you  _ ever _ killed anyone?” Luke asks again. 

“Yeah.” Yuri replies slowly glancing furtively at Tear who just mouths  _ I’m sorry _ . Luke grins and sits back.

“Cool.” 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Everyone looks at Jude like they forgot he was there. He shouldn’t involve himself, honestly. He’s just a scientist, a desk jockey that really has no business fighting. Still, he’s still half Reize Maxian. He knows how to fight. Problems in Hyland will find their way to his home. They always do. He can’t turn his back on people who need his help. Milla has been rubbing off on him. 

“How familiar are you with blastia?” Richard asks though he’s not sure how he feels about the excited glint in Jude’s eyes. 

“Oh, I use them quite a lot in the Eleth Studies department.” Jude asks. “Only Dr. Fodra's Team makes them though.” Richard considers this news for a moment, then goes over to Alisha and whispers to her. Jude tenses under royal scrutiny but his shoulders unwind when the two nod their heads.

“We’ll be taking Queenie from The Enclave for a while.” Richard says. Emre perks up like a golden retriever. 

“Queen’s coming to visit?” He asks, jogging up to his adoptive father. Richard bends to his level placing a hand on his head with a smile. Emre and Sophie are so different but they’re still children. 

“Yes, and you, Sophie and Queen can play as long as you like.” Richard says and Emre grins widely. Asbel pretends not to notice how hard it is for Richard to stand back up. “My apologies for asking you to help with the hardest job. I know how...disagreeable Dr. Fodra can be.”

“I’m friends with a lot of the Malaks at the Enclave, I should be fine.” Jude says with a reassurance he doesn’t feel. Richard breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Good, that’s good. Asbel, do you think you can take these gentlemen with you back to Lhant? Then you all can go to the Amarcian Enclave together.” When Asbel mutters  _ of course _ , he turns to Alisha. “Alisha, do you think you could draft up the request for the blastia? Make sure Dr. Mathis understands  _ the gravity _ of the situation.” 

“I under…” Jude starts to say but Yuri jabs his arm and shakes his head silently. Right. He shouldn’t argue with royalty. Alisha and Rose escort them from the room. Luke watches the mercenary and doctor leave the room. The king and his friend talk very quietly. There are always people whispering around him, glancing at him and pointing. Guy is the only one that tells him anything and he’s not here. How is just waiting here going to get him back? They’re from Kimlasca, why can’t they just  _ go _ to Elympios? Why can’t Jade and Guy just come back? 

“Can I go?” Luke asks. Everyone seems to have forgotten he was here. As usual. 

“My apologies, your highness. You and Tear should retire for the night. We’ll revisit our plans in the morning and thank you for your assistance today, we would’ve lost someone very dear to us if you weren’t there.” Richard says. Luke swells with pride and Tear silently mouths “thank you” to the king. “Emre why don’t you show Lady Grants and His highness to their rooms?” Emre doesn’t move right away. Luke can’t help but feel a chill down his spine as the kid stares holes into him. He’s never met a Malak before. Are their eyes supposed to make you feel so frozen? Emre abruptly breaks into a grin and dashes over to Luke. Excitedly, he takes the prince by the hand and practically drags him from the room. “Hey! Don’t pull!” 

“Thank you, your majesty for this chance and for your hospitality.” Tear says with a bow. “Before I go, may I ask you both a question?” Richard gestures for her to continue. “Will Luke get better with time?” She asks. Asbel and Richard exchange looks. Richard nods. Tear can’t help but feel a pang in her chest. They have entire conversations without speaking. They remind her of Jade and Peony. They always seem to know what the other is thinking. Seeing one without the other is so odd. Peony makes a great show of holding it together, but the cost of not knowing weighs heavy on him. If you don’t know him, you don’t see it. But sometimes, he’ll accidentally make tea for two and suddenly he's miles away, missing the man he loves. Then he’ll drink both cups and act like nothing happened. She can’t stand to watch. 

“Does he know?” Richard asks. “Sometimes when they live with humans since birth, they believe they’re human.” 

“In fact, we thought Sophie was human for a long time but…” Asbel trails off, not wanting to give Tear too much information. “My wife and I found that it’s best to find something they enjoy and let him pursue it. Like a child, if they don’t have something to focus on, energy runs wild.” 

“Fighting and sweets is pretty much all he cares for.” Tears says with a defeated sigh. “His majesty is very invested in treating him as a human.” 

“But he’s not.” Richard says quietly. “May I speak freely, not as a king but a father?” Tears gestures for him to continue. “You should tell him. Nothing good will come from letting him find out on his own.” Richard sees the conflict inside pulling her heart one way and her mind another. “I know your circumstances are complicated. Perhaps after all this is over, we can talk more on the subject. I would like to hear more about him. I think spending time with Emre and Sophie would be good for him. Queen is a little more standoffish.” The way Asbel sucks his teeth implies that Queen is far more than that. “Please, get some rest. We’ll talk more in the morning.” With that, Tear leaves Asbel and Richard alone.

“So, the Prince of Kimlasca is...a Malak?” Asbel asks incredulously. “How the hell does that happen?” Richard sighs, sitting heavily on the throne. His body aches everywhere. His head races with all the things that need doing before he can activate the Lastalia. He folds his hands over his cane and rests his aching head. Asbel is the rock to his reed, ever stalwart even when he’s at a loss. In a selfish way, Richard is glad he’ll die first.

“I honestly don’t know and I’m not sure Lady Grants does either.” Richard says. “But it’s obvious that he means a great deal to her and to the king. They went through so much trouble to raise him as a human. Actually…” He lifts his head. “I believe she’s removed him from Kimlasca for his own safety. What do you think would happen if Elympios found out they were sheltering a Malak so close to the royal family?” The same thing that happened to Fendel, most likely. 

“Do you think they know about that immortality thing Eleanor was talking about?” Asbel asks. Honestly, he can’t imagine anything more horrible.

“Hopefully, we’ll never have to find out once we activate The Lastalia.” Richard replies. “We’ll have all the pieces once Yuri and Jude come through.” 

“You really think they’re trustworthy, don’t you?” 

“Come now, Asbel, you know how discerning I am.” Richard says with a tsk. “Dr. Mathis is a genius and while I know you disapprove of Zaphias as much as they disapprove of us, we have a common enemy. Besides, Mr. Lowell has been very understanding of the position we’re in.”

“They’re risking a lot for a petty informant.” Asbel has every right to be critical but Richard knows what he’s doing.

“According to Commandant Scifo, the return of Ludger W. is of the utmost importance. Before his capture, the Prophet of Kresnik’s final command was to find the man and bring him back to Reize Maxia. Gaius and Ioder take their Prophet very seriously.” Richard reasons. “The Prophet may not have predicted his capture, but perhaps he foresaw his escape.” 

“So you think this Ludger W. actually  _ does _ know where the Prophet is.” Richard nods in affirmation but Asbel has to consider this more. “You don’t  _ honestly _ believe it’s an actual prophet, do you? He couldn’t even predict his own capture and there are tons of Malaks out there who can see the future.” Richard only chuckles in response. Asbel hears very little about the Prophet of Kresnik in Lhant. 

“According to the stories, the Prophet of Kresnik created The Schism.” Richard admonishes. “I think it’s time we do the same.”

“Do you really think The Lastalia can produce something that powerful?” Asbel asks. “It’s going to cause some major issues. Trade and travel might very well come to a stand still.” Richard claps a hand on Asbel’s shoulder.

“Let Alisha and I worry about that.” He says. “All you should worry about is protecting Lhant. That’s where your heart is. You are The Lastalia’s greatest defense.” Asbel doesn’t know how to feel when Richard looks him directly in the eyes like this. Richard has always been a little aloof, even with his closest friends. He prefers to carry his own burdens. Asbel wants to scream “let me help you” but he’d never listen. Richard suffers in silence. He already made Hyland pay for his suffering, he can’t do it again. It’s so obvious that Richard wants to tell him more. There’s something he’s dying to say and Asbel is afraid that he’ll run out of time before he can say it. He knows all of Richard’s secrets. What else could there possibly be? Richard doesn’t say anything. Instead he hoists himself to his feet and motions for Asbel to follow him out of the room. “Queen, Sophie and Emre all came from The Lastalia. With a blastia to stabilize the eleth’s flow, they should be able to cast a barrier without the possibility of injury or eleth shock after that, Dr. Fodra’s blastia will sustain the arte, it’s not as elegant but we have very little time.” 

“They’re going to be exhausted…” Asbel muses.

“Yes, this does come with a certain risk. So we have to be careful, without a blastia. They’ll exhaust themselves…”

“...and they’ll return to The Lastalia, I know.” Asbel doesn’t want to think about that possibility. He rallies for Richard’s sake. Sophie and Queen are fighters but Emre is different. The last time they were at that spring, he and Richard nearly died. Richard thinks he’s hiding his concern but never from Asbel. “We’ve done it once, we can do it again.” It’s a simple gesture, but it seems to help. 

“Time is of the essence. I know Commander Grants is being truthful, but Elympios is clearly relying on this malevolence to weaken us. They may not wait until the Scarlet Night like they told her.” Richard writes down a few things. “The Harbor is on lockdown, but we’ve prepared a ferry for you back to Lhant for the time being. I’ll be right behind you with Emre and Sorey tomorrow morning. Alisha and Rose will stay in Windor. I’m giving her full control over military forces. As soon as Dr. Mathis comes back with Queenie and the blastia, we get to work.” They haven’t done it in years, but they bump wrists just like old times. 

“You can count on me.” Asbel says, rallied for the first time since yesterday. But before he leaves, Richard catches him by the wrist. His hands are so thin now. Clammy and cold. All they do is make him think of his friend’s shortened life. 

“Asbel…” He doesn’t understand why Ricahard says his name like that. It’s so soft, almost like he’s talking in his sleep. Something unsaid always hangs between them, but Asbel can’t figure out what it is. He’s known Richard for twenty years. He can tell him anything. Yet there will always be something that separates them and to Asbel it’s just blank space. He mentally pleads with Richard just to say it but it’s always the same. This time is no different. “Be safe.” 

By the time Asbel sees Alisha again, she tells him that Yuri and Jude are already on their way down to the ferry but before he goes, he wants to check on Sorey. They run into Lady Eleanor on the way there. Her eyes are swollen and red from the force of her tears and for a moment Asbel fears the worst.

“I’m sorry, I’m just very um...overwhelmed. A lot has happened.” Eleanor pauses, looking past him. “A lot.” He agrees. “Sorey is stable and out of any immediate danger.” Eleanor says. “You’re welcome to visit him just please let him rest.” Asbel has every intention to let him do so. That is until he sees Velvet sitting at his bedside. She doesn’t even look at him when he slams the door from the shock of just seeing her sit there like a free woman who didn’t murder someone yesterday.

“He’s sleeping.” Velvet says. He doesn’t have to see her face to hear the smirk in her voice. 

“If you hurt him…”

“Would I have carried him out of that tunnel just to hurt him now?” Velvet asks. Asbel chokes on his response. “He broke me out of that cell. I’m merely repaying a debt.” 

“Did you plan all this?” Asbel asks. Velvet turns around then, just to absorb the sheer absurdity of that question.

“My original plan was to break my chains, kill you, your brother, the guards at the station, grab a dinghy and use my daemon arm to paddle across the ocean.” Well now she’s just making fun of him. “For the record, I was telling the truth. Once I talked to the king, I was going to tell you everything in exchange for a slyphjay. I was even willing to stay behind bars for a bit longer and I kept my word.” Quietly she adds, “You know this one is too soft, don’t you?”

“Sorey is one of the most talented Shepherds I’ve met. Lhant adores him. He’s practically family.” Asbel doesn’t know why he should feel so defensive in front of a murderer.

“Who’s Mikleo?” Velvet asks, as if she’s quizzing him. 

“That’s none of your business.” Asbel says crossing his arms. Velvet shrugs and turns her attention back to Sorey.

“Well he keeps asking for him so if he’s around tell him that.” Velvet replies like she knows damn well Mikleo isn’t anywhere near here. She lets the silence pass between them. She hears the wheels in Lord Asbel’s head turning furiously. He’s about to make a deal with her. As long as it results in her release, she really doesn’t care what he asks her to do. However, men like him are rather predictable. He puts his family and ideals first. He wants to protect Lhant and by extension Windor. He wants to keep his family safe and avoid the Elympion war effort. He thinks small but it’s all he has. 

“I’ll make you a deal.” Asbel says. “If the Scarlet Night is in three days, you can fulfill your debt to Sorey by keeping him safe during that time and if push comes to shove, I want you to fight for Lhant. We don’t expect this operation to get that dangerous but after three days, we can officially release you.” 

“Because I technically didn’t do anything wrong.” Velvet replies. Asbel nearly gives her the shout down she deserves but he shouldn’t raise his voice with Sorey sleeping so soundly. 

“Then I’ll see you in Lhant.” With that he leaves the room and slams the door behind him. 

Outside, Rose offers to escort him and honestly, he should accept. Malevolence and daemonblight can be unpredictable. However, he could use the time alone. A short walk ought to clear his head. Rose bids him a good night, but Asbel feels her watching until he turns a corner. 

With two large universities and the knight’s academy, Windor is usually a grand, jolly town where revelry can reach into the wee hours of the morning. The harbor never stops moving. The inns are almost always full and even in it’s quietest times, you find the milk delivery service feeding stray cats before breakfast. Tonight, it’s under complete lockdown. The only people in the streets are knights. He still sees bloodstains on the cobblestones. Twenty casualties in total. There’s a faint scent of rot in the air. They haven’t cleaned up all the corpses yet. The streets are dark. The whole city trembles in fear beneath his feet. 

Asbel loves this city. He attended the knight academy when he was twelve. Back then, he was a simple runaway named: Namur Marajan after his favorite book character. His father raised his children to follow orders, so he wasn’t exactly a creative child. Or course, Richard instantly saw through his fake name being an avid reader of the _ May The Wind Guide our Blades  _ series himself. Honestly, he spent more of his formative years here than in Lhant. It should be home. Richard is here. His old stomping grounds are here. He went to school and broke bread with some of the most prominent people in Hyland. Windsor should be home, but it’s not. It always felt wrong like he’d crossed a line that he’d never come back from. When he returned to Lhant after the ceasefire was signed, he sat in his father’s chair and it clicked. Wherever Cheria is, he’s home. Without Cheria, nothing feels right. He was born to protect Lhant but he was destined to love Cheria. It’s only been a day and he’s already pining for his wife. It’s time to go home.

“About fucking time, man.” Yuri mutters as Asbel saunters up. “I was about to die from boredom.” 

“I think maybe we can use a little boredom, don’t you?” Jude asks tersely, clearly tired of waiting. 

“Whatever, Some of us don’t have time to wait on nobles.” Yuri says through a yawn. The ferryman looks a little upset too but doesn’t say anything and lets them aboard without any issues. 

The ferry ride to Lhant is short, being a little less than an hour. Being from The Enclave, Jude has actually been to Lhant several times, if only as a stopover between Fennmont and Windor. At night, one can see tiny strings of eleth floating through the water. The flow of eleth is so steady and plentiful in Hyland. While this might seem like an asset, it actually makes Hyland a giant target. Eleth is a river and rivers have rapids, floods and droughts. Some rivers even flow in the opposite direction. Water can be as peaceful as it is dangerous. So while Hyland is unremarkable, a steady supply of Eleth, devoid of phenomena and a reduced chance of Eleth Shock is a valuable resource. Naturally, Fendel went after Hyland first. They just never finished the job. Asbel thinks he hides it well, but Jude isn’t so green. He’s still a doctor, he can see the weight men like Asbel and Yuri carry. He hopes that he can help lighten the burden with his studies. 

Jude wanted to be a Shepherd so badly. Growing up in Reize Maxia, he was surrounded by talented artes practitioners. Much like Lhant, his town was too small to have a proper church. Though according to his mother’s letters, that’s changed recently. He always wanted to come back to Leronde and start one himself. Unfortunately, he’s half Elympion, he’s always told how lucky he is that he can cast at all. However seeing what happened to Oscar and Sorey, Jude can’t help but agree for the first time in his life. If he survives, Oscar will never see again. He was too weak to heal Sorey on his own. They aren’t exactly friends, but Jude knows enough about the man to know his dedication to The Church of Maxwell. If that’s what it takes to be a Shepherd, Jude doesn’t even come close. 

Lhant is much like Windor, on total lockdown. In fact, the ferryman has to get out and help the two men left on the harbor dock the boat so the men can disembark. Yuri glances around. You don’t find a lot of quaint little hamlets like these in Zaphias. He would wager some of these people have never even locked their doors before. 

“There you are.” A man sitting on a horse drawn cart says. He jumps down and greets Asbel with a hug. He takes him by the shoulders and gives him a once over. “You seem like you’re in one piece. Richard’s already sent word of what happened. Cheria’s worried sick.” He offers a handshake to Yuri and Jude which they accept. “You must be Mr. Lowell and Dr. Mathis. It’s nice to meet you. Lady Lhant has prepared some accommodations for you at the manor, our inns are full up at the moment.” 

Once they load into the cart, Jude starts to doze off but Yuri has something else on his mind. Listening to Hubert and Asbel chat quietly to each other, he takes out an old leather bound journal Karol gave him for his birthday. He doesn’t think he’s that forgetful but he does admit that it helps. He can’t write daily reports on a top secret mission but he can at least bother to let Flynn know he didn’t die in Windor’s chaos. 

Dear Flynn…I’m not dead. No.

Dear Flynn...you can’t get rid of me that easily. No.

Dear Flynn...Hyland sucks. No.

Dear Flynn...about what I said before I left...hell no.

Dear Flynn...I’m really sorry... _ fuck no.  _ He is not sorry. Not after everything that’s happened. This is Flynn’s fault and if he thinks that a little absence will make him come crawling back for forgiveness, he’s wrong. Still, in his most idle moments, he continues to fiddle with his wedding band. He doesn’t even do it on purpose anymore. He thinks of Flynn and it just becomes a weight bearing down on his neck. The cart rolls to a stop and there’s a pregnant woman sitting outside with a lantern. This must be Lady Cheria. She flies into her husband's arms the second he disembarks. 

“Richard told us what happened. Are you alright?” When he doesn’t answer she holds him again. A hug like that feels like refuge in a storm. The ring gets a little heavier. He tears his eyes away from the scene and wakes Jude up. Cheria greets them cordially but Yuri doesn’t miss her vicious side eye. Seems his exploits are known all the way in Lhant as well. His accommodation for the night is clearly Asbel and Hubert’s childhood room. What kind of sadistic parents makes their kids share a room in this giant mansion? Yuri only feels a little better after bathing. It’s been a hard day and if he doesn’t find Ludger soon, it’s going to get even harder. He just prays that Rowen has come through from him. With Jude still trying to dry his hair, Yuri tries to get back to writing his letter but there’s a knock on the door. It’s Asbel.

“Come to read us a bedtime story?” Yuri asks with a smirk. Asbel isn’t impressed. They’re dying to get to sleep but Jude lets the lord in anyway. Yes. it’s his house but Yuri doesn’t want to spend anymore time with the man than necessary. He’s cooperating for the sake of his deal with King Richard. Nothing can jeopardize this mission, not even Yuri’s personal feelings on the matter. Not surprising as if Flynn ever cared about his feelings anyway. 

“I just wanted to let you know that we’re leaving at 7 o’clock tomorrow morning. We should be in Fennmont by 10.” Asbel says. “The Ferry is on the West side of the island. So we’ll be going the opposite way.” Yuri mutters thanks and turns back to his journal only to be forced to put it back down when Asbel starts talking again. “Once we finish everything there, we should be able to be back in Lhant in a little less than a day. We’ll have a whole day to prepare for the Scarlet Night.”

“Will Sorey be ready?” Jude asks. “We’ll need a Shepherd if things get bad.” 

“If he’s not, I’m sure Lady Eleanor will provide backup.” Asbel considers the possibility. “But Sorey’s had much worse. I think under her care that he should be fine.” 

“That’s not encouraging.” Yuri adds. Asbel’s hackles raise but he’s too tired to say anything else. It’s past midnight. Windor is in shambles and Lhant will follow if he’s not careful. Just beyond the border, Elympios is poised to strike. They’re cutting it close. “Did you get a look at the kid before heading out? He took one hell of a beating.” 

“He’s being carefully watched.” Asbel says and he pretends not to see Yuri’s irritated frown. 

“He’s  _ your _ Shepherd, right?” Yuri says. “We don’t have a lot of those in Zaphias so I’d think you’d take better care of him.” Asbel is in no mood to suffer accusations.

“Hey. Sorey is  _ family _ . We take care of him just fine.” Asbel replies sharply. 

“Nobles say that about their servants all the time.” Yuri remains unconvinced. 

“What you just…”

“Hey, guys, please...” Jude interjects, moving between them both. “It’s been a really long day. Can we  _ not  _ fight?” Luckily, they’re both men of reason and back down with a reluctant sigh. 

“Sorry.” Asbel says stubbornly. “You’re right. It’s been a very long _ two  _ days.” Yuri doesn’t say much, he just crosses his arms and lets his silence speak for him. “Hyland isn’t like Reize Maxia and Zaphias. We don’t have a lot of ways to defend ourselves anymore.”

“You seem to have a problem with people coming back to life too.” Yuri adds. 

“Oh please, you don’t really think that she’s the  _ real  _ Velvet Crowe, do you?” Asbel scolds. Yuri scoffs. 

“Hell no, but you can’t deny that she’s done nothing but help you despite the fact that  _ you  _ put  _ her  _ in jail.” Yuri replies. Asbel has no comeback for that. A mercenary wouldn’t understand. Their only loyalty is money. In fact, he bets that if Elympios paid Yuri to sell out his mark, he would. Yuri turns to Jude. “What about you, doc? What do you think?”

“About the woman in the cell?” Jude asks. He thinks for a moment about everything he’s read about Velvet Crowe and what kind of people her students are. He doesn’t have much of an opinion on the woman herself. She helped Sorey and got them out of the prison even though she didn’t really need to. Even though she did help, any normal person would’ve done the same. “No, she  _ can’t _ be Velvet Crowe. I don’t think Lord Artorius would’ve pronounced her dead if there were any chance she was still alive.” Yuri and Asbel share a look Jude can’t quite decipher but doesn’t ask. 

“Do you have a family, Jude?” Asbel asks after a moment. 

“Yeah, parents and godparents back in Reize Maxia.” Jude replies. “But my cousin is…” He hesitates to say. “...gone.” Yuri furrows his brow, noting Jude didn’t say “dead”. 

“And you, Yuri?” Asbel asks. Yuri’s hand instinctively fiddles with the plain wedding band hanging from his necklace. 

“Yeah.” Is all he says. 

“Everyone in Lhant is family and I will protect them with the same fervor I do for my own family. Wife, daughters, brother, Richard, Alisha, Rose, Sorey...all of them. We’ve suffered enough.” Asbel declares. “So I am sorry if I come off as rude or a bit unhinged but Hyland is my home.” Yuri snaps his journal closed in response. Asbel just drains the life out of him. “Remember: 7 o’clock. Good night.” 

Jude feels cold when the door clicks shut. He turns off the lamp and he just before he goes to sleep, he swears he hears Yuri mutter,

“Nobles don’t decide who gets to suffer.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update may be a little delayed because I haven't edited the next 3 chapters yet, I've been called back to work AND I have surgery in about 3 weeks. So there's a lot happening. Thank you everyone for your comments so far, you've provided so much motivation and peace of mind over this whole...debacle. Yeah, this is year is a whole ass debacle. Stay safe everyone and WEAR A MASK!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recovering nicely from surgery. Thanks to everyone who asked after me. This chapter is a bit weird but only because I wrote it at two VERY different times (before and after I started having severe stomach pain). So if the pacing seems a little weird, it's because I was bleeding internally!

Asbel, Yuri and Jude go in three separate directions once they set foot in Fennmont. Jude to the Amarcian Enclave, Yuri to Rowen Ilbert’s home and Asbel to the top of General Malik’s memorial for Queenie. 

Jude decides that he would rather give his left arm than sit between Yuri and Asbel again. Some people are just too stubborn for their good and some are too stubborn for the good others. How does he attract these boisterous personalities? It’s not just Asbel and Yuri but Milla and Dr. Fodra too. She’s like a walking alarm, snapping at anything that sets her off. She once failed an entire class over a simple question. 

Yuri might’ve felt lonely last night but now he would give anything to be alone on this mission. If Asbel would just let people eat in peace instead of giving orders breakfast would’ve been peaceful. You can’t time success and you certainly can’t put a missing person on schedule. Rowen might’ve located Ludger but they could be wrong. If he does have the right person, Rowen can’t legally detain him. Asbel doesn’t know what the word “covert” means and he told him that loudly and repeatedly. 

Asbel did not start the argument at breakfast. A mercenary like Yuri might not care for a regimented schedule but he’s on Hyland’s time now. Yuri’s mission is the longest. Therefore, he’s the biggest liability and he needs to remind Yuri of that because he doesn’t seem to care if they're on a three day time limit. It doesn’t matter if Yuri has done a million of these missions before, the future of Hyland is on the line. He’s not going to have it jeopardized by an outsider.

When Asbel first came to Fenmont, it could hardly be called a village. Some even called it the Land of Eternal Night which is just a grandiose way of saying “covered by trees”. Here, the plant life grows as pure and thick as the Eleth. The branches are so full of leaves that they stretch over the city streets and block out the sun. Farming here is a nightmare, you never know what you’re going to get. It’s almost impossible to cut the trees down here, so everyone uses artes to build homes, businesses and the wildlife respects the humans who have made a place here. Malakim come and go as they please. It’s like a piece of Zaphias. When he was a soldier, he didn’t believe the Fendelian army’s stories about the forest fighting back every time they tried to invade but after visiting for years now, they made a liar out of him. However, Asbel isn’t here for Fennmont. Let Yuri navigate the city if he wants to stalk off alone. Before he gets two steps in the right direction, a familiar pair of hands covers his eyes from behind.

“Guess whooooo?” 

“Hm…” he starts. “Richard?”

“Nope!”

“Cheria…?”

“No~!”

“Rockagong?” Asbel can’t help but smile at the sound of melodious giggling behind him. “Then I think it might be the Wonderful Genius Dr. Pascal.” She turns him around and hugs him hard enough to lift him and inch off the ground only to nearly fall when she set him down. 

“The one and only!” Pascal chirps. She then walks in a circle around him with a hand to her chin. “Hm...something’s different about you.” Asbel could say a lot of things. He’s going to be a father again soon. Richard can’t walk without help anymore. There’s an invasion force sitting on the barrier islands. Sorey could very well be irreparably injured. He’s traveled with an asshole for three hours. Honestly, any one of those would work. “I know! You’re not wearing your ugly coat!” Pascal exclaims. 

“That coat was an heirloom, thank you very much.” Asbel grumbles. 

“That doesn’t make it not ugly. Pascal declares. “So what happened to it?” 

“It got damaged in the incident at Lhant.” Asbel explains. Pascal nods slowly. She crosses her arms and frowns. 

“You know it’s so strange we’re seeing cases of Daemonblight again.” She muses. “There’s like...a ton of Eleth here. Hyland only has one Sephiroth Tree, it’s not like its…”

“Two.” Asbel corrects. Pascal pauses, then laughs abashedly. 

“Yeah two, sorry. I forgot about the one at the Enclave for a minute. I see it so much, I forget it’s there.” She oscillates on her feet before saying, “Is Richard really thinking about activating it?” She asks. 

“Yeah, he thinks that Queen, Sophie and Emre should be able to cast an arte equal to The Schism.” Asbel explains. Pascal has to ruminate on that as they walk to the northern edge of town. 

“It would definitely take a lot out of them.” She says. “They said that the Great Muzet slept for forty days when she cast The Schism. With the three of them sharing the load though, they’ll probably just be tuckered out for a few weeks. They’re young Malakim but they’re pretty strong. There’s always a chance though…” Asbel sighs, not letting her finish her sentence. 

“I know but no one knows if or when a Malak will return to the Eleth.” Asbel doesn’t know if he’s reassuring himself or Pascal. 

“Well, a conduit that’ll keep the Eleth steady will definitely help.” Pascal says.

“Yeah, Jude is going to see Dr. Fodra right now.” Asbel says but Pascal just frowns thoughtfully. “What’s wrong?”

“Dr. Fodra’s been slipping lately.” Pascal explains. “She’s always been like...woooo I’m a genius, you fail, get out of my class...but lately, she’s been on a rampage.The Eleth Studies lab is entirely empty. It’s not by accident that all the other researchers decided to visit home during Fall Break. Everyone thought they were joking but their doors were locked this morning and Dean Ilbert took a day off today.” Spot on impersonation aside, something about that sets Asbel’s teeth on edge. It sounds similar to what happened with Major Victoria. She and Dr. Fodra are pretty similar, except Fodra ended up having children. They all cut contact with her the minute they were old enough to leave. Still, the twins said that Victoria was nicer than usual, not  _ meaner _ . “I’m not sure that even a letter from Richard’ll get her butt moving. She had a bit of a breakdown after the dean denied her tenure and just has really stepped up the spite.” 

Beyond Femnmont’s northern edge, lies the Shrine of Graces. To an outsider, it would just look like a normal garden. It’s too delicate for Captain Malik’s Memorial but Asbel begrudgingly admits that it turned out nicely. There are no headstones here, but small trees with names carved into them. They’re tended by the Malakim since they’re walking disasters when they’re idle. Tending to the cemetery keeps them from causing trouble in town. Asbel thinks back to his conversation with Tear. It’s nearly impossible to get a Malak to do anything but what they want. Does Kimlasca truly intend for a Malak to take the throne? 

“Where’s Queen?” Pascal asks. That’s right. She would’ve sensed their presence at the gate. When they get to the shrine all the way in the back, there’s no Queen. Asbel gets a chill up his spine. Queen is the older and more timid of the three. She doesn’t need constant supervision like Emre and Sophie. If you leave them alone for too long, they’ll start to fight but Queen is the fulcrum, balancing the two out. Almost like an older sister. She prefers to be left alone and can be for weeks maybe even months at a time. But she never hides from Pascal. 

“Miss Pascal!” Someone calls from the behind. Asbel doesn’t recognize the voice. Instinctively placing his hand on his sword, he whips around to find...no one. Confused, he turns back to the shrine and is met with a large pair of purple eyes. The resulting shock knocks him off his feet. “Oh dear. It seems you have a problem with balance. Perhaps you should seek out a doctor.” He doesn’t recognize this Malak. She lifts him up bridal style like he’s not 180 pounds of muscle. She sets him on his feet and dusts him off for extra measure. She’s taller than him and her hair nearly touches the ground. Strange, he knows all the Malakim that live in Fennmont, but he’s never seen this one before. Someone must be taking care of her, Asbel thinks, they should really put her hair up for her.

“Oh. Hi there, Milla.” Pascal sounds quite surprised to see her here. “Where’s Queenie?” Milla, however, isn’t listening. She’s looking for someone. She waltzes right past Pascal and surveys the area with growing disappointment.

“I thought you said Jude was coming back today.” Milla pouts. 

“Yeah, he’s back.” Pascal says. “At the Enclave. What are you doing  _ here _ ?” Milla has to think about it for a minute. 

  
  


“Ah! I remember now. I felt something Elympion here, so I went to go investigate.” Millia announces proudly. Asbel and Pascal share an uneasy glance. “I thought Jude might be here, so I waited for a while and then I found you and your unbalanced friend.” 

“Wait..what do you mean “felt something Elympion”?” Asbel demands. 

“Well Malakim are very good at finding sources of Eleth. Eleth runs through everything, even the air around you.” Milla boasts with a cheerful smirk. Asbel is too tired to be talked at like a schoolchild. “But, I've spent a lot of time around Dr. Jude and he has about half the Eleth Hylanders do. So it's fairly easy for me to find something that feels like Jude." Milla grins and waits for the humans to be impressed. Instead of praising her, they start talking quietly to each other. 

"Milla, where is this "thing that feels like Jude"?" Asbel asks carefully. Milla doesn't quite understand the urgency in his voice and he seems to be getting more impatient by the minute. Humans don’t like to be reminded about how impatient they are so she points further into the shrine. “Right in there, I…” Asbel doesn’t wait for her to finish her sentence. She frowns and looks back at Pascal. “Your wobbly friend is quite rude, Doctor.” 

“Well, he’s always been the impetuous type.” Pascal says waving her hand. “But don’t worry, Asbel’s an old friend of mine. You remember the war, don’t you? I was a mage in his unit.” Milla only smiles when Pascal smiles. The doctor knows she isn’t convinced but they don’t really have time to make sure Milla is comfortable. Honestly, she’s more worried about Queen. She hardly ever leaves the shrine. She loves the plants more than the people around her despite the offerings of toys and cakes they leave for her. “Now, have you seen Queenie?” She asks. Milla opens her mouth to answer but Asbel calls from inside,

“Pascal? Come here for a minute.” Milla grumbles. She doesn’t like this Asbel fellow. Noblemen should be a little more prudent in their worship. She follows Pascal into the shrine and without the wind blowing, they are assaulted by the smell of garbage. Judging by the mess, Queen has neglected the offerings to the shrine. Her cakes have molded, the fruit is covered in white fuzz and puddling onto the stone floor; her toys are covered in a layer of dust and all the shiny mirrored trinkets have lost their shine. Queen is meticulous. She keeps the shrine and cemetery neat. 

“Well, that’s strange…” Milla mutters. “Wouldn’t the offerings be left at the foot of the shrine if she’s not here?” All Asbel can think of is Major Victoria’s house and how there was even a meal prepared and left to rot along with the body. He would take a deep breath if the smell didn’t remind him of the rancid body he’d found. Malak aren’t like humans, they don’t leave behind a body when they’ve been killed. They return to the Eleth. There’s no way to know whether or not she’s missing or...no. Sophie, Emre and Queen all share the same bond. If Queen broke that connection, they would know  _ instantly. _ While something could’ve happened in the last three hours since leaving Lhant, the molding offerings suggest that she’s been gone for far longer. 

“Queen’s not a wanderer.” Pascal says. He doesn’t like hearing her sound so grave. “She doesn’t like to travel, not when she’s found a place she likes.” She inspects Queen’s many cushions and soft plush toys. All dusty. “It isn’t like her to just up and leave, not without telling anyone. Without telling  _ me _ .” 

“This isn’t your fault, Pascal.” Asbel says. She turns viciously on her heel.

“I didn’t say it was.” She snaps. “What I’m saying is, I know for a fact that she wouldn’t leave Fennmont, I would know if she wasn’t in the city.” She replies. “Just like you know where Sophie is and Richard knows where Lam...I mean  _ Emre _ is.” She turns to Milla. “Where’s the Elympion thingy you mentioned? That might be why she left. Machines scare her.” Milla tries to remember how the lack of Eleth feels. This Shrine reminds her of her own about a century ago. However, Queen is more discerning than she was at that age. The little Malak strings the fragments of mirrors and shiny things together and hangs them from the rafters. They light up this place more than any fire. Sometimes it seems like the shrine is the only place in Fenmmont that gets any sun. However, there is one spot of the circular building the shine doesn’t reach. Strange. The Eleth doesn’t reach it either. Milla barely gets a chance to point to it before Asbel is rifling through the pile of toys and cushions. 

“Even though Queenie isn’t here, someone has been taking her offerings and tending to the cemetery.” Pascal says thoughtfully. “They aren’t eating or taking them, so they have to be close enough to come here every day at the same time.”

“Would she be at the university?” Asbel asks while struggling with a particularly large teddy bear.

“Unlikely but she’s been known to help the Eleth Studies wing before. She’s pretty comfortable with Jude and Emeraude but I don’t know about the others.” 

“I’m quite fond of her too.” Milla declares.

“But Queenie isn’t like you, Milla. She’s shy and she’s not as strong.” Pascal explains. Asbel pretends not to hear the small tremble in her voice. Milla takes the admonishing as a compliment. “It’s not like her but Malakim often forget that time passes. But can we assume she didn’t just leave of her own free will?

“Yeah.” Asbel’s voice takes such a grim turn, Pascal’s stomach turns right along with it. In his hands are two items: A solid black lump of machinery with a blinking light and a firearm. Pascal sucks in a breath. She hasn’t seen a firearm since Captain Malik was assassinated. She takes the weapon from him and immediately empties it. “We found one in Lhant too.”

“Richard’s letter didn’t mention this.” Pascal says quietly. 

“Sorey says that it’s a more advanced version of the ones we saw in Fendel.” 

“Yeah, this one switches bullets automatically…” Pascal hands it back and points to the other machine. Asbel hands it to her and she tries to inspect it but it looks solid. She shakes it and there’s no sound. All machines have moving parts. Even conveyor belts make noises. “Okay, I have no idea what this is, but it’s clearly spirix.” Before she hands it back to Asbel, Milla snatches it from her. “Hey Milla you can’t…”

“Fascinating…” Milla mutters, not listening to a word Pascal says. She taps the machine several times. It reminds her of a turtle with a smooth shell but there’s no creature inside. “How in the world can they fix so much Eleth into such a tiny object?” Milla looks to the humans. They tend to create such odd contraptions but even they seem confused. “Can we not break it open?”

“What do you mean so much Eleth?” Asbel asks. Milla frowns, not really understanding the question. She shows him the small black shell. 

“There is no Eleth in the shell, but there is inside and there’s so, so much of it.” She haltingly explains.

“How much?” 

“I’d say...that if you took this much from the ground without casting anything, that would make a hole about as big as the shrine, honestly.” Milla replies. This confirms Tear’s theory but he left the sketches with Yuri, so he has nothing to compare it to. They’ll need to bring this back to her. Pascal grabs him before he has another chance to take off. 

“Oh no, don’t you start. We need a plan.” She declares. 

“Queen could be in the hands of Elympios right now and we need a plan?!” He snaps. Pascal ignores him.

“Milla, can you think of anyone at the Enclave that can be considered suspicious? Anyone at all that comes to mind?” She doesn’t expect Milla to be of much help so she’s surprised when the Malak actually pauses to think about it. A deadly silence stretches over them.

“There is one man.” Milla says darkly. “He works odd jobs at the university. He’s an Elympion. I don’t like him even when everyone likes his food. He stares at Jude so much it makes him uncomfortable. Sometimes he doesn’t even eat in the cafeteria because of him. That’s why I came to meet him, to protect him in case...” That’s all Asbel needs to hear and he tries to leave again but Pascal doesn’t move. 

“Did you forget everything we just talked about?!” Pascal squeaks. “Whoever has Queenie is still in the area. They’ve been accepting her offerings and cleaning the cemetery. Custodians at the Enclave work ten hour shifts. He wouldn’t have the time! If Elympios has her in their custody, they wouldn’t be wasting time with undercover missions and waiting for a Scarlet Night.” 

“A Scarlet Night is coming?” Milla bleats in panic. “How do you know? I thought only those with Daemonblight can tell.” Their grim expressions tell her all she needs to know. “I need to find Jude. I want to know where Jude is. I need to keep him safe.” Pascal takes her by the shoulders. 

“Calm down, Milla. Take deep breaths.” Milla’s breath quickens. “Not like that! Just...think for a minute. Can you feel anything else _ Elympion _ in Fennmont?” The Malak shakes her head vehemently, tears of frustration brimming in her eyes. She screws them shut and lets her mind swim through the river of Eleth but there’s only one place she can think of. “The Enclave.” She looks about frantically. “Jude is there, isn’t he? I have to get to him before The Staring Man does. Let me go!” Pascal doesn’t fight her and she darts out of the shrine. 

Asbel and Pascal can’t match Milla’s speed but they’re as close behind as they can manage. By the time they make it down the hill and back into town, Milla is at the university door roaring and attempting to cast artes at the closed doors. In the crowd, they spot Rowen and Yuri but no Jude. 

“Let me in!” With a sword in one hand, several guards and one Malak hold onto Milla’s arms and legs to keep her from breaking into the University. Pascal joins the fray trying to calm her down leaving Asbel standing dumbly in the growing crowd. 

“Do you know her?” Yuri asks. He isn’t sure if he’s talking about Milla or Pascal. 

“What’s going on? Why can’t anyone get in?” Asbel asks. There are guards everywhere demanding that everyone get back and stay calm. Students and professors press their faces against the windows calling for help. Bright light shines from inside. Something happened to the Sephiroth Tree. 

The Amarcian Enclave is alive. The trees that make its walls are still growing and are fed by the Sephiroth Tree that holds it up from the center. Leaves explode from the ceiling, even in darkness and the Eleth makes them shine. They don’t need street lamps. Everything else is polished metal and glass panels, all made from artes. It’s like a giant gilded egg with blaring alarms and warning that something is breaking it from the inside. Refugees from all over usually find work here. The guards assure the crowd that everyone in the building is safe but if everyone would just  _ make room _ , they can start evacuating. 

Clearing his throat, Rowen parts the crowd and formally asks what’s going on. Meanwhile Asbel scrutinizes Yuri who still doesn’t have his quarry. 

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s been an  _ hour _ .” Yuri growls. Pascal manages to quiet Milla down but even if she isn’t fighting, she pleads with the guards to let her in so she can get to Jude. Asbel doesn’t like the way she looks at the windows. Rowen motions them up the University steps. 

“These gentlemen will be helping with the evacuation.” Rowen tells the guards. Asbel starts to protest, but Yuri forcibly clamps a hand over his mouth. 

“He knows what he’s doing,” Yuri hisses. Asbel has only met Dean Ilbert a few times and he’s not a Hylander. He doesn’t understand the gravity of the situation. If the Enclave is in trouble, Jude is in trouble and if  _ Jude _ is in trouble, the  _ Blastia  _ are in danger too. Then there’s Queen. What if she’s in there with a Sephiroth Tree on overload? If they can’t get people out quickly, they’ll start passing out from Eleth Shock. The knot in his chest twists so hard that the strings holding him together  _ snap.  _ Asbel shoves Yuri off, hitting him in the face and nearly knocking him down the stairs. He marches to the door and promptly kicks it open. The crowd cheers. A few follow him inside. Milla included. 

“That asshole…” Yuri mutters rubbing the bruise on his cheek.

“We have to focus on the matter at hand.” Rowen reminds him. “Dr. Pascal could you…” She’s already gone after Asbel and Milla. “Damn.” He mutters. They have no choice but to follow them. “Hurry, we need to find him before anyone else does.” 

“Why?” Yuri asks.

“He’s an Elympion on Hyland soil. Out of all the refugees that work at the Enclave, he’s the only Elympion  _ here _ . If there is even any inkling that he has something to do with the tree, they’ll go after him.” Yuri’s heart jumps into his throat. He’s not going to fail his mission because of a bunch of angry nerds. 

Inside, the Sephiroth Tree is almost too bright to look at. What was once a sparkling pale juniper tree is now a blazing spike of Eleth. It’s not as common in Hyland but these trees are everywhere in Zaphias. Halure’s tree goes berserk at least once every three years but not like this. He can practically hear it screaming like it’s calling for help. Or maybe that’s the students being shoved to and fro trying to scramble into their classrooms and dorms to hide. Honestly, what the hell was Asbel thinking after what they saw last night? This crowd might not be as big but four people died from trampling alone. Nobles are all the same. How dare this man have the audacity to scream about family when he doesn’t think of anyone else but himself? 

Yuri can’t dwell on him for long. They have to find Ludger. Rowen briefed him before they came here. They managed to track him and through a series of well placed ads and suggestions, he landed a job at The Enclave as a cook after working menial jobs where he worked up to 12 hours a day. They can’t detain Ludger without proof of a crime so Rowen worked with the head chef to take advantage of Ludger’s exhaustion. Who would’ve thought that a man that was basically homeless leapt at the idea of better pay, fewer hours and a warm bed? People rave about the man’s food. According to Rowen he’s the greatest thing that could’ve happened to the mess hall. He even joked that he’s reluctant to let him go. 

However, everyone seems to have forgotten about his delicious food because the Enclave gets to Ludger before Rowen and Yuri do. 

If you ask Ludger, it’s his own fault. He shouldn’t have left the kitchen to go check on Jude in the first place. He’s not usually so sloppy. Before he knows it, he’s ambushed from behind. One man has Ludger by the arm, one more holds him down as they drag him from the room. Instantly feral and determined, Ludger fights back like a trapped animal. He thrashes wildly tearing his arms free and knocking one of his assailants to the ground. He grabs a heavy ledger from Jude’s desk and swings at the man who tried to grab his legs. Just as he breaks free, another attacker - a woman - grabs him by the hair. Working together, the professor and his student slam his face into Dr. Mathis’s nameplate. The first one recovers faster than he thought he would and this time he loops his arms under his, locking him in place. 

“What did you do to the tree?!” One of them shouts. 

“I saw you with Dr. Mathis, are you conspiring with him?”

“We know it’s you, Elympion scum!” 

One of them takes a swing at his unprotected stomach but he’s too close to get in a proper hit. So Ludger lurches forward and bites his nose as hard as he can. He spits the blood into another attacker’s face and shoves him to the ground with a kick. As more men try to hold him down, he hears the head chef pleading with him to just stop fighting and lay still. Sorry, Chef, but he can’t do that. He snaps his head backward and the assailant behind him wails as his nose is broken. With a clear path to the door, he starts running.

Until a piercing wail brings him and everyone else within earshot to their knees, covering their ears. 

People cry out in fear behind closed doors at the sight of Milla Maxwell stalking up to Ludger. She’s not here to save him. She’s not even here on the behalf of his attackers. She doesn’t care about their bleeding ears and jackets full of glass. She takes the human with the white hair and drags him to his feet, forcing him against the wall. She’s so much stronger than him, she can lift him off the floor with one hand. Ludger remains defiant. He’s fought a Malak before. He can still get away once he finds an opening. 

“Where is Jude?” She demands. The man makes a sound that’s not an answer to her question. “Answer me!” She presses her sword against his throat. Further infuriated by the utter lack of fear in his bruised face. “Answer me, damn you!” 

“Milla, stop it!” She pleads yanking at the Malak who’s arm is not even budging. “Even if he  _ does _ know where Jude is, he can’t answer you!” 

“Why not?” Milla shouts back like a petulant child. 

“He’s  _ mut _ _e_.” 

“That’s ridiculous,  _ every _ human can talk.” She persists. 

“This one  _ can’t _ .” The chef implores her. Milla’s grip must’ve loosened a little because Ludger plants both feet into her stomach, catching her entirely off guard. The minute she’s off balance, Ludger jams an elbow into her chest. This would’ve incapacitated a human for a few moments but against a Malak, he needs more. 

Everyone has pressure points. Everyone has weaknesses. Malaks rely on their strength and artes, without it they are just as weak as any human. As she reels, he shoves his fingers into the base of her neck, following up with a fisted blow to her shoulder. Her right hand instantly goes limp. Her sword clatters to the floor. Ludger swipes it but staggers under its weight.

“He took my eleth away…” Milla mutters, horrified. Arm flailing behind her she takes off after him. “ASBEL!” She shouts to the man on the lower floor. Asbel runs to the balcony and looks up to see Milla pointing to a Elympion matching The Staring Man’s description. “That’s him!” She points his her working arm at Ludger as he desperately points his sword at anyone who’s in his way. So he can rush through the crowd and get downstairs. He doesn’t get far because Asbel does the same, drawing his sword against innocent people to accomplish his own ends. His determination outweighs his regret. 

This Elympion isn’t terribly intimidating. He clearly doesn’t know how to hold that kind of sword properly. He’s too used to wielding spirix to defend himself. Shorter than him, skinny, tired...he reminds him of a Fendalian soldier. Spirix sucks the life out of everything, but something about his eyes are sharp and wild. Before he takes a step forward, Asbel knows this man will go _ through  _ him to complete his job. So he makes the first move. 

“Don’t let him touch you!” Milla shouts as their swords clash. Milla’s sword is too heavy for The Elympion and for a moment, Asbel thinks he has the upper hand. However, his opponent is shorter and much faster. Asbel’s blade hits Milla’s and The Elympion throws the sword away, ducks and hits Asbel in the center of his stomach with one fist and in his the center of his chest with the other. Asbel’s body goes numb. He can’t even try to catch his sword as it tumbles from his grasp. The Elympion crashes his foot against his skull, shaking his brain and knocking him to the floor. Asbel hears him pick up the sword again. He struggles against the paralysis but he can’t even lift his head. He needs to move. Move, damnit!

“Ludger, wait!” 

Ludger stops more out of surprise than the need to spare this Hylander’s life. That familiar voice cysts him so deeply that he instantly forgets the Hylander and whips around to see who called him. He has to squint through his swollen eye and the blood streaming from his forehead. Long hair? Check. Cocky smirk? Check. An axe and a chip on his shoulder? Check and Check. Sure enough, that voice belongs to no one but the incomparable Yuri Lowell. Ludger drops the stolen sword. The wave of relief hits him so hard that it’s liberating and stifling at the same time. All the fight leaves him at once and he crumbles, dropping to his knees but Yuri catches him and sets him down gently. When Ludger looks up into his face, he swears he almost sees tears in his old friend’s eyes. Rowen goes to help Asbel and suddenly, Yuri remembers how  _ goddamn angry _ he is.

“Asbel, what the  _ fuck _ ?” He bellows. Rowen helps the derelict lord to his feet. It takes a second for the pieces to come together.

“Wait, that’s him?” Asbel slurs out. Yuri doesn’t get to answer his question. Milla floats down to the ground floor, carrying the head chef in her working arm. Once she hits the ground the chef instantly darts over to Ludger. She tries some minor artes to heal his bruises but they don’t heal right away. Thinking she’s failed him a second time, she mutters her apologies. Yuri stands to his feet and steps in front of Ludger, ready to strike back. 

“Go away, human. This doesn’t concern you.” Milla declares pointing at The Elympion. 

“I’d say you trying to kill  _ my friend _ definitely concerns me.” Yuri persists. With the help of his boss, Ludger staggers to his feet looking more desperate than angry. Milla has never seen someone look so helpless and determined at the same time. It makes her heart do funny things and makes her want to cry. She might be a Malak, but she understands friendship and she understands the weariness in the young Elympion. Maybe it was the way The Elympion looks at the Long Haired Human, or perhaps it was the fact that he called him friend but Milla backs down.

“Fine. But if he so much as breathes mischief, I will do what I think is necessary.” Yuri only snorts. He’s fought a Malak before, he’ll do it again. 

“What the hell is going on?” Asbel is supposed to be in charge of this whole operation but he can barely stand on his feet. Ludger cautiously approaches them but looks to Yuri for approval. With his blessing, Ludger walks up to Asbel and hits him in the same spots in reverse order. The feeling instantly floods back into his legs. “How did you do that?” Ludger only makes a disgusted face. 

“Remarkable.” Rowen says. “I’d always hoped to see you in action, Ludger.” The Elympion goes to Milla next but she steps back. 

“You took my eleth away.” She says sharply. 

“ _ You _ attacked him.” Yuri replies for him. “You’re lucky he’s willing to give it back.” Milla reluctantly unwinds her posture and lets Ludger do the same to her. She starts to move her right arm. 

“I don’t like that feeling.” She declares. 

The tree flashes warningly, begging them to focus on the task at hand. No one has passed out from Eleth Shock and there’s no sign of Malevolence. Could the tree really just be calling for help? 

“Where is Jude?” Milla demands grabbing Ludger by the arm. “You’ve been following him since last month. You  _ have _ to know where he is. Why were you in his office?” 

“He’s supposed to be visiting Dr. Fodra for a Blastia.” Asbel says sheathing his sword. “Where is that?” 

“Dr. Fodra’s office is on the third floor, we would have seen him by now.” Rowen replies. Ludger opens his mouth but nothing but odd sounds come out. Judging by the way his mouth is moving, he should be speaking but it just comes out as a string of unconnected syllables. 

“What is he talking about?” Asbel says irritably at Yuri who’s apparently the man’s translator. Yuri puts his hand in Asbel’s face, pleading with him to shut the hell up  _ for once _ because he’s only adding to Ludger’s stress. He’d be lucky to get anything out of him in this state. 

“Do you have anything he can write with?” Yuri asks Rowen who instantly produces a small note pad and pen from his suit coat. It takes Ludger quite some time but in spidery, childish letters he writes:

JUDE. 

DANGER. 

IN.

BASEMENT. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wear a mask and stay safe!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter than normal but for good reason as it's probably one of the most violent things I've ever written. Please heed the tags. Seriously.

The Amarcian Enclave’s Eleth Studies department is built around the base of the Sephiroth Tree. There are no offices, just labs, Eleth Storage chambers, spirix disposal and specimen closets. Jude only got his own office a few months ago, before that, he spent almost every waking moment down in Eleth Studies tinkering with Spirix, recording the Eleth absorption rates and comparing them to Blasita. He’s The Enclave’s foremost Spirix researcher. Fitting for a half-Elympion scholar. However, he mostly spent time alone or attached to Milla’s hip. One would think he’d be shriveled up with Spirix Exposure by now. 

There are exactly four entrances into the Eleth Studies department in each cardinal direction and two hidden Escape hatches that are used in case of emergency, though there hasn’t been a use for them yet. Rowen tries the North entrance, Asbel tries the South, Yuri and Ludger try the East with Pascal and Milla checking the West wing entrance, closest to Jude’s office. 

Each door is sealed tight. 

Yuri tries to blow up his door with his Blastia but they don’t even shake. Asbel and Rowen end up getting guards to try and dispel the seals but each arte they try just fizzles and nothing works. Milla rams the doors with her supernatural strength. She dents the walls, but the door doesn’t move. She bangs on the door while Pascal tries to cast an arte to open it but nothing happens. The only explanation is that there’s a blood seal at work. Whoever cast it either has to wipe it clean or die. 

“Jude!” Milla cries, banging on the door. “Jude are you there?” She knows how massive the Eleth Studies Wing is, but there’s no harm in trying to lead him to her voice. She’s never seen a door that she can’t break down. She doesn’t know any arte that can’t be broken and she is over a century old! 

“Milla?” A voice asks on the other side.

“Jude!”

“Milla!” 

“Are you alright? What’s going on?” Milla asks. 

“I don’t know. Dr. Fodra and I went down here for a Blastia but then the alarm went off and now I can’t find her.” Jude says through the doors. “Why are the doors sealed?” He’s trying so hard not to panic but anyone who’s down here on a daily basis has a fear of being stuck down here. With no windows, it’s darker than everywhere else. The floors and walls aren’t made of the Enclave’s thick glass but arte-bent steel where you can hear footsteps everywhere without actually seeing anyone. The Eleth is fed through lines in the wall and while they’re usually bright enough to act as a light, they blink too erratically to see where he’s going. 

The Amarcian Enclave is alive. All of it’s Eleth comes from The Sephiroth Tree. Once, he was comforted by its gentle pulsing. If you listen closely it has a rhythm, almost like a heartbeat. Now it’s more like cardiac arrest. He doesn’t know what happens to a Sephiroth Tree when it goes out, he didn’t know they could. That’s why they’ve been studying it. 

Jude ducks as lights flare and explode from the influx of Eleth, spraying glass everywhere. It’s almost entirely dark save for the sparks and little puffs of eleth splashing across the floor. If he stays here any longer, he could come down with Eleth shock. 

“Jude! Are you alright? What happened?” It’s Dr. Pascal. Jude presses his head against the door. 

“It was just the lights, I’m fine!” He shouts back. He hears Pascal strain as she pulls the door and pushes from the other side . “Can you get the lift door open?” 

“I don’t know, let me see.” Pascal says. He hears her casting something to try and dispel whatever sealed the door shut. “Damn. I-I’m not good at seals. I’ll have to go get help. Stay as far away from the tree as possible, alright? If you start feeling any signs of Eleth Shock just...stay calm.” Right. Because it’s so easy to stay calm in a dark hallway full of sparks while there’s an alarm going off.

“Dr. Mathis?” Emeraude’s voice sounds off from down the hallway, past the flickering lights and sparks. “Jude? Where are you? I can’t get up!” 

“Was that Emeraude?” Pascal asks. Her voice is harder to hear with the din of panic upstairs. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know…” Jude says. “But if she’s fallen out of her wheelchair, I have to help her.” 

“No, Jude just stay by the door. She can’t get hurt if she stays put!” Milla protests. 

“I can’t, she could be in trouble.” Jude insists. They don’t have time for this. 

“Jude. Do as I say and don’t move.” Milla’s voice rarely sounds so stern. “Dr. Fodra will not thank you for your help. She wouldn’t do that same for you.” Deep down, Jude knows Milla’s right. If he were in Dr. Fodra’s position, she would abandon him and save herself.

“Jude! Are you there? I’m hurt, I can’t move!” Emeraude cries out once again and Jude takes off down the hallway, away from Milla’s indignant shouting. If he can hear Emeraude, she can’t be far so he starts searching through labs and their storage lockers. 

“Dr. Fodra?” He calls. Odd. He gets no response this time. “Emeraude!” He shouts with no response. His heart rate ticks up a beat when there’s more silence. He wasted too much time talking to Milla. What if Emeraude has Eleth Shock? What if she’s passed out? 

Breathe.

Don’t panic. 

He faced a giant daemon dog and blightcorpses yesterday, he’ll be fine. He totally didn’t vomit from the panic. Certainly not. He checks six labs and three storage lockers with no trace of her. He could hear her from the stairwell entrance. She should be nearby. When he spots a storage locker already open, Jude races in only to find Dr. Fodra’s empty wheelchair. It’s been knocked over along with several samples. Damn. Damndamndamnit! The lights are flickering too much for him to tell if she was dragged anywhere. “Emeraude, where are you?” He’s answered by nothing but the sound of sirens and the tree’s erratic heartbeat. 

After working directly with Dr. Fodra for two years, Jude should've known something was wrong. Being an adjunct in Eleth Studies is like being a whipping boy for a spoiled princess. Dr. Emeraude Fodra has never experienced rejection. She flew into a week-long rage when King Richard sent The Enclave a letter asking for his expertise, not hers. The outburst destroyed any chance of her getting tenure, which resulted in her locking herself in her office, screaming curses that not even Origin could comprehend. Knowing this, Jude still instantly accepted when Dr. Fodra invited him to lunch to discuss the Blastia. He thought perhaps she changed her tune. She never invites him _anywhere_. She’d sooner poison him. Judging by the way he’s sweating, he’s not so sure she didn’t. But it’s not just Emeraude that has him worried. 

The entire Eleth Studies wing is _empty_. Dr. Howe, Mr. Abe, even Cathy are all gone. Despite the rumors, there’s no way they all went on vacation with this place in such disarray. Papers and vials are everywhere. Even the chairs are stacked haphazardly against the walls. He was only gone for a few days. What the hell happened? 

Officially panicked, Jude starts throwing doors open at random. He prepares himself for anything. Malevolence, a daemon, maybe even blood. He prays to Maxwell for strength. Yet try as he might nothing could have prepared him for the dead, festering body of Emeraude Fodra falling out of a specimen closet onto him. On impact, liquids explode from her bloated extremities with a putrid stench. Screaming, he tries to scramble to his feet. Her blistering skin molts off onto his lab coat, bits of her crushed skull scatter and splatter onto the floor. He barely has enough time to turn his head to vomit. Panic clamps down on his lungs. Shaking, Jude scrambles backward trying to get as far away from the body as possible. In the stuttering lights, Emeraude’s sightless eyes stare back at him pleadingly. 

Emeraude is dead. _Emeraude is dead._ **_Emeraude is dead._** Who did he have lunch with? Who called his name?! 

“Oh Dr. Mathis…” Emeraude is dead. Why is she standing _in the doorway_? “...I wish you hadn’t taken so long.” 

“Who are you?” His voice is so ragged, it doesn’t sound like his own. 

“You see, they have plans for you.” The Fake Emeraude says. She creeps closer. A dememted silhouette of a partner he trusted framed in flashes and shadows. “Your last name is Mathis, so they told me to take you back home. Even if I had to steal you.” It’s just like Asbel said, they killed someone no one would think twice about and assumed their identity. 

He’s alone with a Therion.

There’s a horrible squelch. It’s the same sound Velvet’s arm made. Except Emeraude’s arm is now a long, mutated spike. Paralyzed by panic, his brain is empty. It's always been stocked with useless information and now that he needs it, it’s abandoned him. He needs Milla to save him, but she can’t get to him. He backs up against the wall as Fake Emeruade comes toward him with a smile too wide for her face. She plants a foot in his chest and leans all her weight on it. It’s lighter than he expected. 

“I’m supposed to bring you back alive.” The therion sneers. “But they didn’t say in what state.” She cackles long and slow, reveling in his fear. She’s distracted and _lighter than he is._ He needs to get out of here. He reaches for the nearest thing. A chair leg, belonging to a precarious stack of metal chairs. “I wonder if your father will pay half price if you don’t have your legs.” Jude nearly dislocates his arm trying to pull the pile over but the chairs come crashing down onto them. Predictably, the therion is sturdy enough to get hit and still be able to jump back. Jude, one the other hand it left to stagger to his feet.

The therion launches herself at him with a cry and he narrowly dodges with a cut to his side. Shit. That daemon arm is just so strong. He tries to remember how Velvet’s arm works but he only saw it once. He has to neutralize it before he can concentrate on fighting back. All he can do is overpower her. He grabs one of the metal chairs and blocks her next attack but her daemon arm breaks through the chair and nearly stabs him in the face. He’s heavier than her, so he twist’s the chair twisting her arm and throwing her off balance. 

Despite her vicious daemonic strength, she’s still the same size as Emeraude. That means she’s just as small. Wheelchair bound by an accident and petite by genetics, Emeraude was quite frail. Barely reaching 5 feet tall and hardly heavier than any martial arts weights. She forced him to carry her so many times. She even made him bench press her as a joke. He grabs another heavy metal chair. It crashes into her back giving him just enough time to gain the upper hand and run the hell out of there. He barely gets down the hall when he hears an angry screech and a Frenzy spell bowls him head over heels. He hits the back of his head, shaking his vision but he recovers in time to dodge a stab to his heart. 

She claims she’s supposed to bring him alive, but she seems more interested in toying with him. He’s going to die if he can’t think of something. He can’t die. He has too much to do, too many people he wants to help. He can’t leave his work half done. He can’t leave Milla. He displaces his body weight and shoves the therion over as he scrambles to his feet. He notes she has trouble pulling her arm spike out of solid surfaces. She takes a swing at him with her human arm and his teeth cut the insides of his mouth from the force. He spits blood onto the floor as she clubs him with both arms. 

Her spike is dull everywhere but the point. A few of his ribs break. His nose breaks. Through the flashes of pain, his blood splatters on the walls. He covers his face, muttering an incantation and a wall of fire throws the therion back, screeching as she’s burned. As he unwinds himself and starts walking, Jude realizes he underestimated how strong she was. Her frame is small, but he’s limping and it’s so much harder to breathe. 

_You’re going to die if you stop now, idiot!_

Jude limps away as fast as he can but the smell of Fake Emeraude’s sizzling skin is right behind him. She leaps onto his back but he’s still heavier and lets himself fall backwards on top of her. The wind rushes out to the sound of her cracking ribs and he scrambles up to run again but she grabs him by the leg and he lands on his face. There’s a sharp pain in his chest, suddenly it’s a lot harder to breathe. 

He won’t die. _He can’t die._

He rolls over just in the nick of time as she dives for the back of his head. Her spike arm gets embedded in the floor. She has trouble pulling it out. Jude has to neutralize the arm or he will never have a chance to survive. He uses both fists landing a haymaker to the back of her neck. Her knees fall from under her, she tries to recover but Jude bring his foot and all his weight down on the daemon arm. The resulting grisly crunch is almost satisfying. Daemon blood gushes everywhere burning his shoes, the metal floor and the therion’s clothes she shrieks and writhes on the floor cursing. Jude takes the bloody spike and even though the acid burns his hand, he hurls it the way they came and keeps limping down the hall. 

He has to get away. She’s not dead. He has to defend himself. No one is coming to save him. Milla can’t save him. He has to get out. _He has to find a way out_ . He finds the nearest escape hatch but he can’t pull the ladder all the way out. _He needs to get out._ It doesn’t matter how hard it is to breathe. He can’t stay in the hallway. She’ll gain the upper hand again. He bolts blindly through the corridors. _He needs to keep moving or hide._

Thunderous booms start coming closer and closer His aching lungs can’t catch a breath. She’s looking for him. He has to hide. He can use his area to his advantage. Fake Emeraude is a Therion. She won’t know this place like he does. He knows it better than his childhood home. 

_The Eleth Chamber. Get to the Eleth Chamber and you can overwhelm her with everything at your disposal. You know where everything is. Use it against her or you die._

He turns a sharp left. He hears the booming getting closer. He doesn’t know why she’s here or why she wants _him_ but she’s not going to get him without a fight. The Eleth Chamber stores samples from all parts of the world, even what’s left of the eleth in Elympios. He spent hours in that room and he knows the location of every sharp object. If all else fails, he’ll break the tubes and they’ll both die of Eleth Shock. He barges into the room, slamming the thick door behind him. The Eleth Chamber is not how he remembers it. Horror and sorrow steal his strength and he falls to his knees at the sight of it. 

Stuffed into each of the nine floor to ceiling Eleth tubes are bloated bodies so racked with Eleth Shock that they hardly have faces. Yet, he recognizes the embroidery on their tattered labcoats; Dr. Howe, Mr. Abe, Cathy...His trusted friends - beloved colleagues - are _all_ dead.

The Eleth Chamber is in shambles. The storage cabinets are looted and the lockers doors have been broken. From what he can tell, the Blastia are gone, shattered like glass on the floor in all their pretty red shards. What does the therion have to gain from this? Could the Therion have known about Asbel’s plan all along? Jude can barely stand to pick his head up but he has to think of what to do next. _Barricade the door._ When he stands to his feet, that’s when he sees her.

Little Queen is stuck in the middle tube surrounded by Eleth, entirely overloaded and twitching. Her eyes flutter open, they’re entirely white. Instantly forgetting about the barricades, Jude runs up to the tube. Queen is in poor condition. She’s bone thin, her eyes are sunken in. The eleth is so potent it’s eating away at her body. 

“Queen?” He asks. “Can you hear me?” Her milky eyes blindly searching for him like it’s the first gentle word she’s ever heard. She’s covered in bruises. Malaks don’t bruise like squishy humans do, whoever did this had to be much stronger than her. 

“Dr. Mathis…” Is all she can say. He’ll accept that. However, the relief is short lived when her hopeful smile turns into panic. He should’ve remembered to barricade the door.

Fake Emeraude grins like a feral beast at the sight of him. Her crushed spiked arm drips dark daemon blood on the floor. She points at Queen who cowers the best she can.

“Get away from my project.” She demands. “Screw bringing you back to Bisley. I’m taking your head and delivering to your father personally!” 

Surrounded by his dead colleagues, the sound of Queen’s desperate little cries and the blaring alarm, something evil wells up inside of Jude. These people were innocent. _Queen_ is innocent. _He_ is innocent. What gives this therion the right to destroy their lives?! They had families. They invited him for holidays and shared their hospitality. Their dreams were his dreams. How long did Queen suffer right under their nose? How long will Elympios trample on everything that gets in their way? _Don’t they have enough?!_

She’s _not_ a person. She’s a _daemon_ . It doesn’t matter if she wears Emeraude’s face. She’s a _killer_ that’s _smaller_ than the giant wolf and _lighter_ than a Blightcorpse. 

When she lunges, he lunges too. Before he knows it they’re hitting each other with everything they can get their hands on. Queen starts screaming. _Don’t worry, Queenie I’ll get you out of there_. He takes the therion’s face in his burned left hand and slams her head down. She takes the nearest item, a record log, and smashes him in the face with it. Jude responds by taking a beaker and crushing it into her face. Everytime she tries to cast something he tackles her back she grabs his leg and throws him off. He swears he heard something crack but he can’t think about it. 

She grabs some rubber cord and sits on his back. She wraps the cord around his neck and pulls but he shifts his weight again and flings her to the side into a pile of debris. They shamble to their feet at the same time. The therion pulls out the large wood splinter sticking out of her side and tries to stab him with her acidic blood. He side steps her and grabs her wrist. He plants his elbow into her neck and throws them both down.

Her other arm snaps. 

With both limbs neutralized, Jude has the upperhand. They struggle rolling over each other Jude is heavier and ends up winning. If his hands are big enough to cover her face, they’re big enough to fit around her neck so he grabs it and _squeezes_. She instantly tries to tear his first away but he pushes harder, overpowering her small frame. 

_This is what you get,_ Jude thinks as he looks into the Therion’s wild eyes. _This is what happens when you take something precious away from me._ A rune circle opens beneath them. She’s trying to cast something big. He can’t let that happen. He presses harder. She scrapes at his arms. She gurgles and spits. Her acid blood burns his hands. She gnashes her teeth and growls, cursing everything he holds dear. _Die._ He presses harder. The circle glows brighter. _Die! Die, damn you!_

The circle vanishes. The body underneath him goes limp with a gasping rattle. He can’t let go until he feels her pulse stop.

“Jude.” He doesn’t know who says that but he can’t let go. “Jude. Let go.” No. He can’t. Not until he’s sure she’s dead. 

“Doc, c’mon she’s dead.” He watches blood creep into the white of her eyes. Is she dead? Someone places their hand on his. His heart jolts. 

Milla’s here. The lights have stopped flickering. The Emergency system has finally kicked in. The hum of the tree sounds almost normal. So many people are here. The man from the dining hall, Yuri, Asbel, Rowen and Dr. Pascal. When did they all get down here? Someone pulls the body from under him as Milla pulls him close. He’s bleeding everywhere from his nose to the glass shards in his arms. He can’t stand up. His leg is broken. Yuri lays Fake Emeraude’s body out and inspects it. 

“Definitely a Therion. Look at her arm.” Yuri mutters. Her body is bent and contorted. There are bruises in the shape of his hands on her neck. That’s how she died. He choked her. His friends are dead, he almost died, he just killed someone with the face of someone he knew. Oh Maxwell, _he just killed someone_. Jude feels Yuri’s hand on him but can’t take his eyes off the body. “Hey…” Too late. The most wretched sound comes out of Jude’s mouth as he crumbles into loud, gasping sobs. Milla holds him and shushes him gently but it’s not enough. “Get him outside, we’ll meet you there.” 

“We’ll take him to the Manor. Milla, come with me.” Rowen says. Milla has to carry Jude out of the room. Everything is in shambles. At first, they didn’t know what killed the seal on the basement stairwell door. Then they followed the rancid smell and found Dr. Emeraude’s body. Then they heard shattering glass and followed the commotion. Yuri has killed before. Some say too many. But he won’t forget the sight of the timid doctor Jude choking the life out of someone. It might’ve been a Therion but the man nearly broke her neck with his _bare hands_. Jude isn’t a soldier. He shouldn’t have been forced to do this.

“We need to get this thing open.” Asbel stands at the middle tube, preparing to break it with the nearest table leg. The poor thing is barely conscious, bobbing in a tube on pure eleth. That must be Queen. The rest of them are filled with what must’ve been people, probably staff that locked their doors and claimed sabbatical. 

“Wait!” Pascal stops him. “If you break it, everyone here will get Eleth Shock and the tree will go back into overdrive.” 

“Well we need to get her out of there.” Yuri hasn’t known Asbel for very long but the man is slipping. No one acts this way if he’s not desperate. He can’t _fucking_ stand him, but he can’t stand to see him suffer either. Pascal inspects the tube frantically and finds the control on the bottom of the tube. 

“It’s not good. She changed the code. I can’t drain it.” Pascal replies frantically. She presses her hands against the glass. “Don’t worry, sweetie, we’ll get you out of there. Okay? Everything’s going to be okay.” It won’t be. The only thing preserving that Malak is the Eleth around her. Yuri is no scientist, but he knows Eleth Shock when he sees it. Even in a Malak. Like any force of nature, Eleth is impartial and therefore: cruel. It’s killing and sustaining her at the same time. She must be in unimaginable pain. Ludger places a hand on his shoulder as he moves past him and he goes to the control panel. He ignores Asbel’s questions as he studies the panel carefully. 

“Spirix.” Yuri tells Asbel and Pascal. Asbel turns to him, already aggressive. 

“What?” He just points to the panel and goes back to studying the numbers. “What does he mean by Spirix?” Asbel asks Pascal who stammers over her answer. Ludger studies the numbers and finds that out of the six numbers, four of them are worn out. Meaning they’re used quite often and if the therion changed the code, she likely used the other two numbers for her own use. So naturally he kicks the panel in and smashes it to pieces. The vents open and the Eleth drains out of the tube. Little Queen can’t stand on her feet without it. Asbel opens the tube and Pascal takes the sickly little Malak into her arms. 

“Pascal…” Queen mutters. “Where are you?” Her eyes are completely white. Blindness induced by Eleth shock is usually permanent. Pascal holds her close and takes her hand. 

“I-I’m right here, sweetie. Just focus on my voice okay?” Pascal says. Asbel kneels down beside them. “Asbel’s here too, okay? We’re going to take care of you.” Queen’s face lights up. 

“Mr. Asbel?” Asbel takes her other hand.

“Yeah, I’m here.” He can hardly keep the tears out of his voice. Through her smiling, Queen starts to cry, little hiccuping sobs convulse through her emaciated body. She’s so small and frail. She’s already fading. 

“I’m sorry…” She says. Ludger leaves the room, Yuri following. “She was so strong...I couldn’t...I tried but she…” She tries to explain but Pascal doesn’t want to hear why, she just wants her last moments to be as peaceful as possible. Queen suffered so much right under her nose. Her friends and colleagues died without her knowing. She’s never been more blissfully ignorant. She got out of bed today thinking everything would go according to plan. She hardly ever checked on Queen because she never had to. She feels exposed. Bereft. Holding her little friend in her arms, she cradles Queen closely and whispers gently to her. Asbel wipes his eyes. Everything is slipping through his fingers. He felt powerful this morning. In charge. Maybe even sure of himself. Everything is spiraling out of his control and Queen paid the price for it. Geno, Misty, Mason, Livy, Gerald, the casualties of Windor, he’s failed everyone. He strokes her hair gently but it comes out in clumps and fades away into a dusty cloud of Eleth. “Will you stay with me…?” Queen asks. “...I don’t wanna go alone…” Pascal nods but remembers Queen can’t see her. 

“Yes.” She says barely able to control herself. Queen convulses painfully and they try to comfort her the best they can. 

“Shhh shhh shhh, I know...I know it hurts.” Asbel soothes. “But you just rest now...we’ll be right here.” Very slowly, the little Malak forgets the pain. She closes her eyes and nestles against Pascal’s chest. She hasn’t in so long. Why did she ever want to be away from her? She loves her so much. Even as she fades away, she smiles, relieved that she still has home even if she has to leave it for a very long time. When the last of Queen’s eleth disappears Pascal breaks. Sobbing helplessly in Asbel’s arms, she curses everything. Elympios, Therions but most of all herself for being tricked. They could’ve stopped all of this but they failed without even knowing they started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might take a bit of a break after this chapter because I have to rewrite Chapter 10 (again). Also I'm 30 now, so there's that. My youtube channel is active again fyi. It's - you guessed it - Doctor Canon.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiatus over. I'm feeling much better and am back at work. Things should progress once every other Monday, time permitting. I'll let you know if that changes. Thanks for being patient!

They’re supposed to be on their way to Lhant right now, but time hasn’t been on their side. The King woke up coughing blood. Yesterday took a bigger toll on him than initially thought. Naturally, he’s slow taking care of loose ends for the Princess. At first, she doesn’t want to hear it. Her brother is too ill to take the ferry to Lhant, he won’t be of any use knowing the state he’s in. It quickly devolves into an argument. Now that Shepherd Eleanor has joined the fray, the adults only seem to be interested in arguing over what’ll happen next. Effectively leaving Luke and Emre alone. 

That’s fine. Luke prefers it this way. He’s been with Emre since last night and it’s the most fun he’s had in months. Emre is one of those people that looks younger but  _ feels _ older. He knows so much more than Luke and tells him about all the cool weapons the old kings hold in their portraits and who they killed with them. Emre knows the castle better than anyone else. He can find the best snacks and hiding places. They barely slept last night, after exploring the castle cellars while the adults worried about the wounded priest upstairs. He decides that he rather likes having Emre around. He’s not Guy by any means, but he missed being looked at like a person, not a burden. 

Emre has more than one room of his own in the castle. This one is filled with books written in languages Luke doesn’t understand but one of the books as illustrations of some of the coolest weapons he’s ever seen. Not only that, but Emre knows all about them! But somewhere between the egg tarts and storytelling, Emre suddenly stops. For a moment, Luke thinks he’s choking but when he gets close, he finds that he’s still breathing, just very shallowly. Emre’s eyes are wide and desperate with horror. He clutches his chest like he’s looking for something. He must not’ve found it because he desperately whispers,

“Queenie?” To himself in the tiniest voice. Lost and confused, Luke looks around for this “Queenie” but she’s nowhere to be found. 

“What’re you…?” A pained, terrible wail shreds Emre’s throat, leaving Luke unable to finish his question. He has never heard a sound like this. The strange thing is, he’s seen people cry before and felt nothing. It happens all the time in battle. Soldiers weep and beg for their lives. Bystanders cry when they hold their dead loved ones. Luke isn’t supposed to feel sorry for them, so he doesn’t.

But Emre’s crying wraps around his heart and squeezes. Tears pour down the latter’s face in droves as he sobs loudly, clutching his chest like someone ripped out a rib. Suddenly, Luke wants nothing more than to make the pain stop. He doesn’t know why but seeing Emre hurt makes  _ him _ hurt and he has to  _ do something _ . He’s not like Guy. That man can fix everything. He can even fix people who are broken inside. Something in Emre  _ broke _ . So naturally, if Luke wants to be more like  _ Guy _ , he should  _ fix  _ him.

What does Guy do when he fixes someone? 

Hesitantly, Luke grabs Emre’s shoulders and pulls him close. Emre throws his arms around him and buries his face in his shoulder. Luke places a hand on top of his head and pats it gently, just like Guy does.

“She’s gone, she’s gone, she gone…” He mutters incoherently. 

“Who’s gone?” Luke asks but he never gets an answer because the Royal Family rushes in a flurry while Tear and Lady Eleanor. 

“Luke, what are you doing?” Tear asks like he’s done something wrong. His first instinct is to let go, but Emre has other ideas. 

“I didn’t do it!” Luke protests. “He just started…” Richard approaches first. Even when he’s smiling like that, even Luke can tell he’s in pain. His body isn’t like others. It’s broken from the inside and some cracks hurt more than others. Luke can’t help but worry that now Emre might be broken in the same way.

“I know, Luke.” Richard says levelly. Emre looks up at the sound of his father’s voice and tries to explain what’s happened but he’s speaking so fast and crying so hard that no one can understand him. “Tear, Lady Eleanor, could you excuse us for a moment?” He’s so polite, but there’s an edge in his voice that makes Eleanor instantly turn heel and leave. Tear, however, hesitates. “Please.” Richard insists. She doesn’t want to leave Luke but she doesn’t want to overstay her welcome. Luke has been safe with Emre all this time. Still their secret is only guarded by Erme’s innocence and the assumption that Luke already knows he’s a Malak. Surely, Richard knows how grave their situation is. She never thought she would have to trust the Windor Royal Family like this. Sighing, she shuts the door on her way out and joins Eleanor who’s making her way to the lower levels of the castle. 

“Something terrible has happened, hasn’t it?” Tear asks. This is such an odd sight. A captain in the heretic Order of Lorelai and a Grand Shepherd of the Church of the Advent finally speaking on equal terms. This is a historic moment, too bad no one in Windor actually knows it’s happening. 

“I’m afraid so.” Honestly, Eleanor doesn’t want to talk to Tear like this. The Order of Lorelai broke off from the Church of the Advent over a century ago, but she’s still guilty of heresy just being a part of it. “Malakim are very...possessive...of what they like. They always know when it’s lost.” She sighs. “Emre doesn’t attach himself to very many things. There’s the royal family, Lord Asbel and his sisters, Sophie and Queen. He’s quite ambivalent to anything else. But the fewer attachments, the more devastating it is to lose them.”

“That...explains a lot then…” Tear mutters mostly to herself. 

“What do you mean?” Eleanor gives Tear a dubious look but the other woman is too lost in her thoughts to notice. 

“Oh, nothing.” Tear replies with a hollow smile but Eleanor snorts in response. 

“I’ve lived with Malakim my entire life, Commander Grants,” she admonishes. “I can tell that Luke is a Malak just by looking at him.” Tear sighs in defeat rubbing her brow wearily. “But, unlike His Majesty, I can also tell that he’s not an  _ ordinary _ one.” Eleanor feels a small lick of satisfaction looking at Tear’s dejected face. 

“I brought him to Hyland so he’ll be safe.” She replies as quickly as she can. “Malakim aren’t...treated very well in Kimlasca.” Eleanor clenches her fist against the urge to slather  _ “no, really? I had no idea!” _ in sarcasm and serve it to Tear on a silver platter. “We raised Luke as a human and he  _ thinks _ he’s human. Albeit a very strange one. But he’s very strong and useful in battle. After the king died I just…” She falters, rubbing her brow again. “...we can’t keep putting him through that. Now that Guy is gone…”

“The Malkuthi engineer?”

“Yes. He and Luke were quite close. In fact, I’d say he practically raised him.” Tear touches one of her bracelets with a fond smile but it doesn’t last long. “It’s almost as if Luke knew the moment he wasn’t coming back. He was particularly moody and anxious. A few hours later, we received Elympios’ demands.” Tear laughs mirthlessly to herself. “Perhaps you think we deserve this for siding with them. Or even for joining the Order the Lorelai but…”

“I can understand feeling a sense of duty to your family.” Eleanor says bluntly. “That is the only understanding we need to come to.” She really doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. She honestly doesn’t care about Kimlasca’s troubles. Right now, until Richard sends for her, she has one person in mind. She stops at one of the many doors in the lower levels of the castle and knocks until she hears a “come in!”. 

The Church’s laundress also functions as the royal laundress and tailor. She greets Eleanor by her title but she clearly thinks Tear is a guest of Her Eminence so she bows accordingly. Tear is too tired to correct her and Eleanor just lets her stew in the awkwardness. 

“Hello, Marcia, do you have what I requested?” She asks. 

“Of course, of course. I managed to piece something together from Lady Sparrowfeather’s dress form. It’s a good thing she prefers hunting clothes otherwise, you would’ve been out of luck.” Marcia replies trying to add a bit of levity that Eleanor is in no mood to accept. Marcia doesn’t seem to mind however, and hands Eleanor a two parcels. Each with neatly folded clothing. “I was able to get the bloodstains out of Sorey’s hanfu but Kitri patched the holes so there might be a seam or two.” There an annoyed groan off somewhere beyond sight. “ _ You’ll never get better if you don’t practice! _ ” Marcia snaps, but she turns back to Eleanor, all smiles. “Anything else, Your Eminence?” 

“No that’s everything, thank you.” Eleanor turns on her heel and leaves Tear to curtsy awkwardly and rush out behind her. 

“Is that for the woman keeping watch over the priest?” Tear asks, once they’re out of earshot.

“Yes. She’s about the same height and build as Lady Sparrowfeather.” Eleanor replies shortly. She doesn’t elaborate but Tear realizes what’s going on. Eleanor is close to the royal family, and a closer friend of the Future Queen and her Lady. But their prisoner should be a nonentity to her. There’s no way she would be able to see two women who have never been in the same room have the same measurements without having intimate knowledge of both of them. 

“Is she really Velvet Crowe?” Tear asks, unbidden, but when Eleanor stops walking, she fears maybe she’s gone too far. “My apologies, I shouldn’t have…”

“We will treat her as if she is for now.” Eleanor replies. She continues walking but her quicker pace makes it nearly impossible to see her face. “According to His Majesty, it’s the only way we can ensure her cooperation.” Tear considers this as they walk in silence to Sorey’s room. They meant to wake him up much earlier than this but the argument over breakfast started and now Luke’s little friend is in a state of hysteria. 

Hyland might make a great show of being so peaceful, but it’s people are in chaos. Richard sees it, but she’s certain now that he’s the only one who does. If Asbel is like the other Lords of this country, they see the war as a powder keg that could explode and Hyland will be hit with the fallout. However, it’s more like a disease. 

Bisley will not stop until he infects everything around him. Conquering the world and its people, the man wants nothing more than to stand above them all. Even nature itself. While Hyland scrambles into their shelters and clings to their old ways, The Elympios Plague crawls up from the deep to swallow them and all their precious traditions. Richard is a smart man but she wishes he was a better king. By the time Eleanor knocks on Sorey’s door, Tear finds her palms sweaty and completely unable to stand the awkward silence any longer.

“I’m going to check on Luke.” She says suddenly. Eleanor doesn’t say anything when she leaves in a flurry. She doesn’t give much more thought to the woman. While Eleanor doesn’t think she’s up to anything nefarious but she doesn’t care to get to know her, considering everything she’s surely done. The Order of Lorelai is an aberration to the church. 

“It’s open.” Velvet says from inside and Eleanor enters with her parcels glad to be in better company. Velvet still sits at Sorey’s bedside where the young priest lays unconscious, sleeping fitfully for the first time in days. With her rigid posture, it’s almost as if Velvet hasn’t budged from her chair by Sorey’s bedside since last night. 

“Was that Tear?” Velvet asks. 

“Yes, but something’s happened to put her on edge.” Eleanor replies. “Emre went into hysterics earlier.”

“Something serious must’ve happened.” Velvet muses. 

“We won’t know until we get it out of him, even then that means we’re flying blind into Lhant without knowing the situation. And with Sorey still unconscious…” Eleanor nearly starts rambling until Velvet stands from her chair and lays a hand on her shoulder. 

“Don’t.” She says firmly. Eleanor takes a calming breath and nods shallowly. She searches Velvet’s eyes for that fond smile she loved so much but can’t find it. It’s like someone stole her kindness. Every part of her that was soft and gentle has been sanded down into something hard and jagged. Still, there’s flickers of the old Velvet. Fleeting though they are, Eleanor clings to them like a child to a security blanket. 

“You’re right. We’ll be ready for whatever happens.” She says. “We have to be.” She hands her the first parcel. “Here. It’s time you get into some...better clothes.” Velvet makes a face at that. 

“What’s wrong with what I have on now?” Velvet asks. Eleanor frowns, well at least one thing hasn’t changed. 

“You’re practically in rags, Velvet.” She insists. “And your hair is so long now, it needs to be washed, maybe even cut.” Velvet’s frown deepens. “Only a little. And a bath would do you some good. You smell of the underchamber.” Eleanor might be the younger of the two but the latter’s sense of propriety is centuries old. Velvet has no will to fight such an ancient beast. Eleanor tries not to smile from nostalgia. The bath is only in the next room, so Sorey isn’t far away. He’s due to wake up soon. Someone should be close by lest there are any complications. 

When Eleanor first came to Hyland, she had no idea how anything worked. Hyland might have skilled arte practitioners but in Gand artes are so prevalent there’s no need for running water pipes or blastia. 

Her first instinct is to help Velvet with the knobs but as she opens her mouth to explain, Velvet turns the faucets on and adjusts them to her liking. Once she tests the steaming water, she starts to disrobe. Eleanor and Velvet lived together for a long time. Nudity is nothing to them. However, Velvet’s body is entirely different; covered in ugly looking scars with traces of sutures and bruising. The gray patches of discoloration are consistent with Spirix Exposure but you usually find these patches around a victim’s hands or eyes. She can’t deny the similarities between her mentor and her protege. 

Sorey never told her everything he experienced in Zavhert but he doesn’t have to. She sees it in everything he does; like the way he jumps at loud noises. Sometimes he’ll completely lose track of reality like he did yesterday. However, Velvet doesn’t tremble or go into fits of rambling panic. She’s closed herself off. With that Y-shaped scar in her chest, it’s almost like whatever allowed her to feel and empathize has been surgically removed. Eleanor feels sick. Before she realizes she’s speaking she asks, 

“What happened to you, Velvet?” Velvet doesn’t answer but she stops in the middle of her ablutions. The stony silence even blocks out the sound of the running facets. Eleanor doesn’t apologize though. She needs to know so she repeats, “What happened when we got separated?” For a moment, Velvet nearly refuses. She should tell Eleanor to back off. Whatever she could say will put her in danger. Worse yet, Sorey could overhear. Still, to Eleanor she’s been dead for nearly ten years and now she’s standing in front of her, bathing as if no time had passed at all. She deserves an explanation. She won’t be much help otherwise. 

“You have to tell me something first.” Velvet says. 

“Anything.” Eleanor says without hesitating. Velvet nearly smiles. 

“What happened to Eizen and Edna?” She asks.

“Edna is in Izuchi with a group of healers.” Eleanor says. Velvet gives her a quizzical look and Eleanor just shrugs. “That’s what I thought but she seems to be doing good work. Since Aifreed was killed, Eizen is with Rokurou and they’re…” Eleanor’s voice catches. “...still searching for you.” 

Velvet falls silent for a second time. For someone who used to wear their heart on their sleeve, she’s entirely unreadable. Eleanor still can’t believe that her old friend is alive. She’s so overwhelmed that she’s reached a point of clarity. In a way, Velvet  _ is _ dead. The woman before her is entirely different. It’s like they painted Velvet’s face onto a sculpture and shoved part of her spirit into her. Then an insidious thought creeps in. 

What if this is just another therion? 

Eleanor heard Lord Asbel’s account over and over. Apparently, Velvet had come to Lhant aboard a ferry from the capital. She stayed in Lhant, working for pennies on the dollar. Anyone would assume that she’s trying to get passage to Fennmont to work at the Enclave. However, Velvet saw another therion and felt compelled to attack her. There was barely an altercation. She must’ve taken her by surprise. In the past, Velvet wasn’t the most polite or even the quietest person, but she was practically canonized in the eyes of Gand. Now, she’s a killer. That thought alone grates at Eleanor’s insides. They have killed before but never indiscriminately. But then Velvet says something that blasts clean through her doubts.

“If they’re still looking for me, does that mean Laphicet knows I’m alive?” There is only one person who calls the world’s most powerful Malakim by a nickname. No amount of transformation or torture can change that. Without an answer, Velvet continues. “I didn’t fall off the ship. I was taken.”

When Eleanor last saw Velvet, they were on The Fiertia attempting to cross the sea into Reize Maxia but they were intercepted by the Malkuthi Navy. Posing as a Gandese Shepherd, Aifread was in the middle of negotiating their release but Magilou spotted something coming up the starboard side. She and Aifread were shot before anyone could react. The checkpoint had been a ruse. The ship was quickly overrun with Fendalian forces looking for Maotelus and Innominat. By the time Reize Maxian forces intervened, Aifread was dead, the ship was destroyed and even though Maotelus and Innominat were safe, Velvet was gone. All they found of her was a bloody hanfu. Warrior King Gaius himself presented Eleanor with it and offered his sincerest condolences. He even stayed with her as she wept over it.

“When everything went quiet on deck, I told the twins to stay hidden while I went to go investigate. I didn’t get far though. One of them followed me.” Velvet says, her voice getting quieter and quieter. “I scolded Maotelus for abandoning his brother.” Eleanor sees the past in Velvet’s eyes as she relives the last time she saw her boys. Suddenly, she wants to cry. “I said “go back to him and don’t say a word until I get back and tell you it’s safe.” But it was then someone tried to grab him but when I fought back he grabbed me instead.” Velvet lifts herself from the bath and shows Eleanor a large scar that had once been bound by thick sutures. It’s consistent with her bloody robes. 

“Velvet, Maotelus hasn’t said a word since you di-went missing.” Eleanor says urgently, she doesn’t realize how desperate she sounds until her voice echoes back to her. Innominat’s anger nearly demolished Artorius’s throne after the funeral. Eleanor managed to convince herself that it was childish denial. Malakim don’t handle loss well. They’ll scream, cry or worse yet, try to kill the person who took their special something away. However, Maotelus is the more gentle of the two. She expected him to be bereft but he simply  _ stopped speaking _ . “He has to know you’re still alive, otherwise he wouldn’t be the way he is now.” A piece of the hardened shell falls away and Velvet turns to her wide eyed, wet hand grasping hers. 

“And how are they, Eleanor? Have you seen them?”

“They’re back on the throne. I believe they’re safe.” Eleanor says taking her other hand and laying it on Velvet’s but she yanks it away at the last minute. 

“As long as they are with  _ him _ , they’re not.” Hatred taints Velvet’s iron determination. She’s always been headstrong but Eleanor thinks she might melt from the while-hot fury underneath. 

“As long as they’re with who?” Eleanor asks, awash in revelations. 

_ “MIKLEO!”  _

Sorey’s terrified shouts cut into their conversation and suddenly Eleanor is on her feet and out the door leaving Velvet alone to finish bathing. She’s honestly a little glad. She loves Eleanor but she responds to radical changes in perspective with denial. Judging by the way she struck Sorey in the face when they reunited for the first time, she’s developed a bit of a violent streak. 

Still. To know that at least one of her boys knows she’s still alive, it brings her the first peace of mind she’s had in ten years. But has Phi really not spoken a word to anyone? He saw the person who attacked them and  _ knows _ who they are. She never intended for him to be silent forever. She hates to say it but commanding Laphicet to be silent might have saved them in the end. The pit of dread in her stomach tells her that if he decides to speak, her boys, Eleanor and everyone in Gand will pay for it. 

She kills the facets and drains the tub. She hears the garbled mess of Sorey’s nightmares through the door. It sounds like Eleanor just barely managed to wake him. Why does that boy even bother trying to keep to a brave face? She has managed to keep a low profile but it’s almost impossible to blend into polite society, much less an image people can freely relate to. He’s struggling and he doesn’t even know it. 

Eleanor must’ve gotten these clothes from the princess’s lover, Lady Sparrowfeather. They’re the same height, build and carry the same weapons. Velvet has never been much for fancy clothes, but she has to admit Sparrowfeather has an eye for practicality. The long red duster is a little much but it’s sleeveless. The shirt has a high collar, covering up her spirix exposure. The sleeves are loose enough to fit a hidden blade underneath it. A small smile comes to her face. Eleanor remembers the smallest things. Velvet likes the boots the most. She’s always

Velvet looks into the floor length mirror. It’s been so long since she’s even seen herself. It’s the same old face, same long black hair. She looks exactly the same, though she’s lost her tan due to the cloudy weather. She misses long hours in the sun, the sound of the surf hitting the ship and wind blowing through the sails. Hyland might be a seafaring country, but the harbors and shipyards leave much to be desired. No matter King Richard’s protests to the contrary, Hyland has only started its recovery. He’s young but clearly in poor health. He will never see Windor return to its original splendor in his lifetime. The sooner he accepts that, the easier his passing will be. He’s a good man. In this case, that’s not a good thing. She doesn’t want to be here when it blows up in his face and he takes the ever loyal Lord Asbel down with him.

If Asbel goes down, so does Lhant. Which means Sorey could die with him.

Velvet has the face of a young woman but she feels her age in her soul. The old woman in her knows that Sorey is heading for a fate he doesn’t deserve. Though it’s a black mark on her pride, the kid reads her like a book. In the Fendelian Prisons, test subjects can only rely on each other. While Fendel did everything they could to break that trust, it only deepened. They don’t know each other, but they have an understanding. There’s a line she won’t cross with someone like him. He doesn’t even care if she’s the real Velvet Crowe or not. No wonder Eleanor chose him to be her protege. She’s always had a soft spot for people too smart for their own good.

With her abundant hair freshly dried and braided, Velvet slips out of the bathroom to find Eleanor coaxing Sorey into drinking a glass of water. He seems to have calmed down rather quickly. Nightmares must be normal for him but he can’t hide his trembling. He’s pale, covered in bandages and clearly not fully healed. He has a higher tolerance for Eleth Shock, but it’s better to be cautious. Upon seeing Velvet, however, he gives her a trembling smile. 

“You look nice.” He reminds her of Phi. If she had a heart, his sweet smile would break it. He gathers up the covers for the sake of modesty. 

“You’ve been out since yesterday.” Velvet replies. “How do you feel?” Sorey’s Brave Face slips on like a mask. It’s a sick little smile Shepherds are taught in training. She’s too old to fall for it.

“I’ll be fine once I put on more clothes.” An attempt at humor. Eleanor humors him with a laugh. Velvet doesn’t. Instead, she takes the bundle of clothing from a nearby chair and places it in Sorey’s lap. There’s a knock on the door. 

“Sister Eleanor, are you still in here?” It’s Tear. “Could you step out for a moment?” Eleanor sighs heavily and does as she asks. Velvet doesn’t bother listening to their conversation even though the door remains cracked. 

“You’re too skinny.” Velvet remarks as Sorey holds up the hanfu’s overcoat and inspects it for bloodstains. It fit just fine before he left Windor but lately the shoulders have felt a bit loose. “Get dressed and be prepared. Something’s happened.” Sorey doesn’t know why Velvet is being so helpful but he doesn’t mind it. 

She’s different from other therions. She should only want to kill him and spread chaos in the name of the people who created her. However, if she really wanted him dead, she would’ve killed him as he slept. So that must mean it’s possible for therions to be unfinished. He checks the clock. It’s just past midday. Asbel must be losing his mind. Velvet helps Sorey to his feet so he can freshen up. He doesn’t complain about the state of the bath. Just before he washes up, he has one more question.

“Where’s…” The door shuts. Velvet is already gone. Dressing is a long, painful process. He bandaged where he remembers getting injured yesterday which is almost everywhere. Stitches pull and tug at his skin. He wonders if he should be getting up at all. It’s a stupid question. There’s always something to be done. He thinks of the chaos that ensued yesterday, the people that died and Oscar screaming as he burned on the chapel floor. He didn’t mean to fall behind. Someone was nice enough to place his paper talismans nearby. “Velvet?”

“Yes?” Wow, she’s actually waiting for him.

“How many people died yesterday?” Sorey asks. 

“About 10. More are missing, but many of them have already been found so they’re optimistic.” She’s so blunt and to the point. Could she really be the real Velvet Crowe? 

“Is Oscar one of them?” He hesitates to ask. 

“Not yet. He and his Malak have been sent home to be with his sister.” Sorey’s heart falls out of his chest. “Otherwise, he’s blind until the time comes.” Sorey stops in his dressing to pray for his friend’s soon departed soul. 

“And Erik?”

“Being closely watched after trying to kill himself in repentance. Apparently he and Oscar were close.” So much has gone wrong in such a short time. Just two days ago his biggest worry was declining yet another Lhant Family Dinner invitation. Now they could very well be at war all over again. He feels the clammy tendrils of panic up his back and has to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” Sorey isn’t sure why he’s lying. “Sorry, I’ll be right out.” Velvet leans against the opposite wall as Sorey exits the room. They size each other up for a moment before Sorey says, “Not to sound ungrateful but why are you here?”

“I made a deal with Asbel. My freedom for your protection.” Velvet answers. Sorey rolls his eyes much to her amusement. “It’s a troublesome arrangement for the both of us.” She reminds him. 

“He only thinks of himself.” Sorey grumbles before he realizes what he’s said. Once he does, however, he claps a hand over his mouth. “Don’t repeat that. Please.” Velvet doesn’t care.

“Shepherds aren’t supposed to be perfect.” Sorey mask slips again and he rolls his eyes. She has half a mind to smack him over the head. Before she can say anything else, however, Eleanor pokes her head in, red in the face and filled with urgency.

“Sorey, Velvet, we’re needed in the Meeting Room.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the foreshadowing in this chapter wasn't too heavy handed. Wear a mask and hang in there!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's bully Ludger hours.

Yuri finds himself a bit conflicted. On one hand, Ludger has done well to go undetected in a place like Hyland. On the other, the fact that he broke cover  _ at all _ is baffling. Ludger is not a man you meet. When you see him, you assume he’s always been there and when he disappears you wonder if he was ever there. For as long as he’s known him, the man rarely says more than two words at a time unless he panics then it’s just a string of incomprehensible syllables. As long as they know what’s causing it, a skilled healer like Sorey can fix something like muteness. However, Elympions have a natural Eleth deficiency. This might give them an edge against artes casters but they can’t be healed either. 

Yuri has to admit, it’s a little surprising that Ludger allowed himself to be treated by his boss. She’s not much of an artes caster but her experience in the kitchen comes with extensive first aid training. It’s even more shocking that Ludger even offered himself up for questioning. This puts Yuri in an awkward position. He’s aware that Elympios has a special language made of hand signs for mute and deaf people to communicate. He doesn’t know it. It’s not exactly standard education in Zaphias and Ludger isn’t in the position to teach it. 

“Before we get started, we’ll need to set some ground rules.” Yuri says pinching the bridge of his nose. Pascal nods as she sits down across from Ludger. She’s as pale as her eyes are red. Honestly, Yuri doesn’t think they should do this in the first place. She’s in no shape to think rationally. It took her nearly an hour to even come upstairs, let alone look Ludger in the eyes. But then again, that might be why Ludger agreed to this in the first place. Despite the propaganda, Elympions do have hearts. Some just hide it better than others. “Keep it simple. Yes or no questions. One at a time, no rapidfire.” Pascal agrees but Yuri feels Asbel’s contempt molt off in droves. The only thing keeping the man civil is the good doctor’s peace of mind. 

“You’re not really a cook, are you?” Pascal asks. 

Ludger shakes his head no.

“You’re like...some big important Elympios guy, right?” 

Ludger cringes but nods slowly. 

“Did you come here to hurt Queenie?” 

Ludger shakes his head no once again.

“Did you come here knowing anything about the plot to hurt her?” Ludger hesitates and Pascal shoots up from her chair and takes his hands in both of hers. “Please. Queenie was innocent, she was family. If you know anything…” Still holding his hands, she pleads with him on her knees. “...I’m not trying to accuse you...I’ve known you all this time and you never seemed dangerous. People didn’t trust you but I  _ knew _ you just wanted to help. Please. I have to know.” She nearly starts to cry again but doesn’t take her eyes away from Ludger’s. Asbel turns away, barely able to watch. “Did you know anything about what happened to the Eleth Studies department or Queenie?”

“No.” Ludger says without leaving Pascal’s gaze. Shock chokes the room. Even Yuri is surprised. 

“I thought you said he couldn’t talk.” Asbel marches up to Yuri but Rowen clears his throat reminding him that he’s here for Pascal’s sake. 

“Can I tell them?” Yuri places a hand on Ludger’s shoulder and  _ squeezes _ . His lack of regard makes Asbel fume but he just chews on his anger. He watches the two men make the most intense eye contact he’s ever seen then Ludger nods a very hesitant  _ yes _ . “In Elympios there was a group of Elite Soldiers called Clanspia. Like the Order of Lorelai, they are basically the special forces but they specialize in covert operations. Ludger was not only a member but a high ranking official.” 

“Was?” Pascal asks.

“What?” Yuri stammers, thrown off.

“You said “was”.” She repeats. After a pause, Yuri just sighs. Rowen oscillates nervously in the corner.

“Yeah. It disbanded years ago. Clanspia soldiers were effectively spies and since they know secrets, they underwent special operations to keep them from speaking.” Asbel frowns dubiously, not buying it for a second until Ludger parts his hair and shows them a long, ugly scar in the side of his head. Pascal gasps in horror. “It’s like the therion or armatization process. They use vivisection to manipulate the body, not artes. It’s called a lobotomy and they can do all sorts of things to a person’s brain with their tools even render them mostly mute like Ludger. While I’ve known him to say a few words here and there to people he trusts, Elympios built their spies to take information but not be able to relay it even under torture.” Without being asked, Ludger rolls up his sleeves and shows Pascal a rainbow of healed scars. She touches them gently, almost apologetic. “So Ludger offering to even share information is a  _ big fucking deal _ .” 

Asbel finds himself staring at Ludger. The other man unblinkingly holds his gaze. Though silent, Asbel knows it’s a plea to his better nature. There’s no “better” in him for Elympions, but there might be a shred or two for those who’ve come to their senses. In a way, Ludger is a victim just like Sorey and Richard. He didn’t ask to be born an Elympion, he supposes. Still defector or not, Elympion eyes will always look dead to him. Asbel relents with a reluctant sigh, before going back to his place by the door. 

“Go on, Pascal.” He mutters, giving up. Yuri bites back a sigh of relief. But now, Pascal seems a bit lost. Perhaps the stress might be too much, but then Ludger places his hand on hers and gives her a nod. This seems to put her at ease.

“Why were you in Jude’s office?” She asks. Ludger can’t answer, so she rephrases. “Have you been following Jude?” __

_ Yes _ . 

“Did you suspect him of something?” 

_ Yes _ .

“Do you still?” 

_ No _ . 

“Did you suspect Dr. Fodra?” 

_ No _ . 

“But you did today?” 

_ Yes _ . 

“Why?” She stammers. “Did she do something to make you suspect her?” 

_ Yes _ . Ludger uses two fingers to mimic walking. 

“You caught her walking…” 

_ Yes _ . 

“So that’s when you knew Jude was in danger, not the danger itself?” 

_ Yes _ . It’s a leading question but Asbel lets it slide. 

“Why would she want Jude?” Ludger shrugs. 

“According to his personnel file, Jude is originally from Elympios but he claimed on several occasions that he left the country at 8 years old, before the navel attack on Zaphias.” Rowen says. “But otherwise, there are no other connections to Elympios.” Ludger shrugs again. As long as Pascal is convinced, Asbel is too. 

“Can you help us find out why this happened?” Technically, Yuri has already agreed for Ludger to do just that. However, this is now a full-on murder investigation. He’s a mercenary and doesn’t exactly have the patience for digging around in someone’s belongings. Ludger is more mystery than man, so he’s quite adept at solving them. He’ll let him take the lead since he’s so moved by Pascal’s grief. 

“Yes.” Ludger replies and Pascal is overwhelmed with tears once again. 

“Thank you, for anything you can do, thank you…” She tries to wipe her face but she slowly loses control, sobbing freely once again. Asbel helps her to her feet and starts leading her outside.

“I’m going to take her home and check on Jude.” He declares. “Meet me back here in an hour.” Yuri has to physically stop himself from saying “don’t tell me what to do”. When Asbel and Pascal leave, Rowen cracks open the door and waits to see if they’re completely out of earshot. When they’re gone, he shuts the door, locks it and glares at Yuri.

“You know when Lord Asbel has a moment to himself, he’ll realize that your little lobotomy speech is absolute nonsense.” He admonishes.

“I know, I know…It’s the best lie I could come up with on the spot.” Yuri groans as he scratches the back of his head. Ludger isn’t impressed either and rubs his temples as he sits back in the chair with relief. “I’m not exactly a covert spy or anything. Asbel will be pretty occupied for the next two days. Hopefully we’ll be long gone by then.” 

“Very well.” Rowen says, but there’s a bitterness to his resignation. “It’s best you gather Ludger’s things and meet Lord Asbel back here as requested. I will gather the staff and students...this doesn’t exactly bode well for the Enclave’s future.” He adds grimly. Rowen is a good man. He wasn’t asked to run the Enclave, he did it himself out of a debt to pay to Captain Malik. With all that bluster about “family” and “honor”, it’s painfully obvious Asbel served in Malik’s regiment. That would explain why they don’t get along.

“I wish I could say that we’ll stay and help but…” Yuri can’t finish that thought. Ludger gets up instead and offers to shake Rowen’s hand. The man takes it gratefully. 

“It will all be worth it when you return home safe.” Rowen replies. He checks his office clock. “You should go and collect your personal effects. Lord Asbel seems quite agitated. It would be unwise to stir the pot, lest it bring more suspicion on Ludger.” Yuri doesn’t need to be told twice and once Ludger receives a hug and his last paycheck from the Enclave’s head chef, they leave through a discrete side entrance. 

For all of his diplomacy, Yuri isn’t so sure that Richard is a capable king. They need to get out of Hyland. However, if he backs out of his deal with the king, they _will_ stop him in Gand. They can’t afford that. Ludger has to get back to Reize Maxia. The streets are nearly empty. Judging by all the shouting from the guards, they need every available healer and arte’s practitioner available. 

In the years he’s known Ludger, Yuri doesn’t remember ever walking with him like this. Still, silence is never awkward with him. If Ludger doesn’t want your company, he will simply not have it. Ludger leads Yuri to a small boarding house in the lower part of town. He can’t help but think of his old home back in Zaphias, the one he shared with Flynn before they enlisted. He can’t afford to wax nostalgic now. He’s accomplished the easy part of his mission. They need to focus on getting  _ home _ .

Ludger’s room is more closet than living space. It’s shabby, small and barren save for a bed and a chest, given to him by the owner of the house. A little more than a month ago, Ludger wandered in from Lhant Port half starved and willing to work for food. The man had pity on him and let him work in the kitchen until he was allowed to work in the Enclave. He never got a proper room but he was able to afford more clothes including a pair of black gloves. Yuri makes a mental note to buy Ludger a new travel bag to replace the plain threadbare one he has now. 

Yuri has seen Ludger covered in blood, soaked to the bone and sick with fever but he’s never looked like this.  _ It’s not _ just Ludger’s cooks’ uniform even though it’s stained with grease and his own blood.  _ It’s not  _ just his apron, caked with flour and cooking wine stains. Ludger is  _ tired _ . Not just the  _ tired _ that makes you want to rest; but a bone deep fatigue that makes you want to _ give up _ . There’s weariness in everything he does. Yuri doesn’t know what to say or do to make it go away either. He’s not good with problems he can’t fight. 

“Hey.” He says pushing himself from the wall. Ludger stops just as he finishes packing, giving him a quizzical look. “I’m sorry it took me so long, man…” Yuri scratches the back of his head. “Everyone sort of panicked when they realized what happened and Gaius, he…” He doesn’t get a chance to finish that sentence because Ludger throws his arms around him, embracing him tightly. Yuri squeezes him back, trying to push the thought of how thin Ludger is out of his head. He can’t help but feel his heart sink with the feeling of the other man’s nails in his back. A lump in his throat takes its place but he just refuses to acknowledge it. Another minute passes before they let go of each other. 

“You ready to go home?” Yuri asks. Ludger huffs out a laugh that sounds more like a sob and runs a hand through his hair as his nods eagerly. It’s much longer than Yuri remembers but it’s still white as snow with a single, blocky chunk of black hair. Now that Ludger has changed clothes, and gathered his meager belongings, he’s missing one more thing. 

With a decisive shove, he moves the bed to reveal some misplaced floorboards. Ludger’s paranoia really seems to have paid off because he pulls a long, wrapped bundle from the floor. Wrapped musty canvas are a familiar pair of hooked swords. God, Yuri can’t wait to see Asbel’s face when he finds out that the famous Twin Hooks have been in Hyland under his nose the entire time. Not only that but they’ve clearly been used and well cared for. 

“Holy shit!” Yuri bleats, utterly flabbergasted “Did you steal those from Julius?” Ludger gives him a feral grin. “How did you even get _ away _ from him?” 

“Jump.”

“From a boat in the middle of the ocean?” Ludger just grins wider. Lost in disbelief, Yuri can’t do anything but laugh. “So you mean to tell me that you swam all the way to Hyland on your own?” Ludger taps his head, though Yuri never quite knows what it means. He doesn’t get a chance to think about it because the clock outside chimes the new hour. Yuri groans. “Come on, Asbel ought to be getting impatient by now.” 

“Dick.” Ludger asserts. Yuri feels a little bad for laughing. Asbel is under a lot of stress. Surely, he has a whole province to look after and a baby on the way. But King Richard has a whole country and the man at least speaks to people with respect.

“Yeah. He’s a noble, what do you expect?” Yuri replies. Ludger sucks his teeth. “Don’t look at me like that, you’re  _ different. _ ” The two men leave the room but there’s no back entrance out of the kitchen. However, headed to the front door, they walk right into the owner of the boarding house. With his mouth set firm, the aging man just turns his back.

“I didn’t see you. Go on.” For all they know, this man thinks Ludger tried to blow up the Enclave like the angry mob from earlier. Even so, he’ll let them go, no questions asked. Good food really speaks to the heart no matter where you’re from. Ludger bows and they both leave.

There are more people on the street this time and Yuri doesn’t miss the dirty glances that follow them down the street. So Ludger takes them down a longer route that’ll lead to the back entrance of The Enclave. Still, Yuri puts a waiting hand on one of his axes, just in case someone tries to  _ interrogate _ them. 

“You don’t mind cooperating with him a bit longer do you? The King can’t get us to Reize Maxia, but he’ll get us out of Hyland. It’ll take a minute, but we can probably find a religious envoy to Reize Maxia from Gand.” Ludger nods his appraisal. It sounds like a solid plan. Any plan that will get him home is a good plan. He’s sick of Fennmont. The constant darkness matches his mind. The eleth here is oppressive. He can barely breathe without someone accusing him of something. He’s not angry though. He deserves it. Ludger doesn’t notice the ring hanging from Yuri’s necklace until one of the street lamps catches the shine.

Concerned, he asks, “Flynn?” Yuri looks down at the ring, not realizing it had slipped out of his shirt. He sputters and slips it back under his collar.

“What? No. No no no. Flynn’s fine. He’s fine.” Yuri sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He should’ve known Ludger would notice, it’s his job. “He...gave me back the ring.”

“Wedding?” 

“No. No wedding.” They spend the rest of their walk in silence.  _ Now _ it’s awkward. Yuri doesn’t want to talk about Flynn. He doesn’t want to talk about how Flynn let him leave Zaphias without saying a word. He doesn’t want to think about “what the ring means to him” whatever that means. He wants to complete his mission, get his friend back home and win the war against Elympios once and for all. He’ll think about love later. Before they go through one of the Enclave’s more discrete entrances, Yuri realizes he forgot something. “Wait.” He digs through his bag and hands Ludger a wax sealed letter. “Here. Don’t read it until you’re alone. And when you do, burn it.” Ludger tucks it in his bag for safe keeping. By the time they make it back to Rowen’s office, they realize that he has the entire school gathered on the ground floor. Some students are packed to go home, others are just milling about, unsure of what to do. 

It’s been about ten years since Yuri has seen Rowen in person. They used to call the man The Conductor of the Battlefield. In fact, Yuri swears to this day that he heard music during the invasion of Xian Du. As Rowen barks out orders to the university guards, he hears traces of the ruthless Master Ilbert. Knights and guildmen alike were terrified of him. Flynn constantly warned him to tread carefully, so naturally, Yuri never saw a problem with him. Flynn would just roll his eyes and say that Yuri’s intuition needs work. Everything is always a work in progress for him. Yuri unconsciously twirls the ring on his necklace. He was never able to finish the letter he started last night. 

Rowen looks into the faces of his staff and students, Yuri shudders at the thought of being responsible for their future. He can’t imagine what the man must be feeling and he has a feeling he’ll never know. A hush falls over the crowd, they’ve been waiting for him to say something.

“My dearest students, faculty and friends, you have my deepest and sincerest apologies for what has transpired here today. I pray that each of you find comfort in knowing that this was an isolated incident and those that have been stricken with Eleth Shock and injuries by the resulting pandemonium have been treated. However, it is my sad duty to inform you that there were casualties. Dr. Jude Mathis has sustained grave injuries. I ask that you keep him in your prayers, he and Milla will be leaving us for the time being while he heals. If you have any well wishes, please leave them in his office by 3pm. It pains me to inform you that Dr. Emeraude Fodra, Dr. Artis Howe, Dr. Xian Wu Ling, Blastia Engineers Spinoza Russo, Hecken Masters, Cathy Mavis, Aston Devereaux, Iemon Abe and Tamara Shabani have passed away.” Yuri gives Rowen the courtesy of looking away when he sees tears in his eyes. “Furthermore, our dear friend and guardian the Little Queen of Fennmont has returned to Origin.” The entire school mourns in unison. Some stand in silent respect, others pray while the rest openly weep. Rowen has more to say. “I urge you all to go back to your homes for today and meet at the North University entrance tomorrow morning for further instructions.”

“Was this an attack on the Enclave?” Someone shouts from the crowd. Rowen tries to look for the heckler and then looks back to Asbel who doesn’t have an answer for him. He doesn’t realize that the old soldier is actually apologizing to him until he says,

“Yes. Although we do not know by who and why. For now, please return to your homes and we will have more information by tomorrow morning.” With that, Rowen must set about the grim task of informing the next of kin and rooting through the belongings of the deceased. He and Asbel meet Ludger and Yuri who are already waiting in front of his office.

“How are the doctors?” Yuri sounds painfully cordial. 

“Jude’s in bad shape. He’s not going to die but he’ll definitely have permanent damage if he’s not healed properly. Aside from the broken bones and burns, he has a pretty bad head injury. As far as I can tell, he’s completely blind in one eye.” Asbel adds, “but all of the healers are so concerned with Eleth Shock patients and getting everyone out of the school that they don’t have the time to treat him properly. It’ll be rough on him, but the only chance he has for complete recovery is if Cheria and Sorey heals him.” 

“I meant mentally.” Yuri replies tersely.

“Bad.” Is all Asbel has to offer. “He won’t speak and Milla refuses to leave him side. Malakim tend to get attached to things they like. Sounds like it’ll be worse than ever.” 

“Either way, it’s best to keep him from the Enclave for now.” Rowen says after clearing his throat. “Jude prides himself on giving life to things. He’s a bit of a do-gooder, that one. Taking a life, no matter how reprehensible, will be especially hard on him.” Asbel makes a doubtful noise in the back of his throat. 

“Don’t be like that.” Yuri admonishes, “Some people aren’t built to fight. It’s not like it’s easy. You remember your first kill, don’t you?” 

“I was already enlisted.” Asbel replies stonily. “I didn’t have time to think about it.” Yuri doesn’t buy that excuse for a second. People only say that when they can’t admit they were proud of killing someone. There’s no shame in being proud of a victory. But Yuri doesn’t remember having any pride, only rage and it still burns every time he thinks about it. Ludger just remembers screaming. “What about Pascal?”

“She’s as well as can be expected, which is to say not at all. I tried to get her to come back with me to Lhant but she chose to stay with the Enclave and help here. I think she’s just desperate to keep busy.” Asbel explained. “She probably blames herself.” Rowen gives Asbel a strange look but says nothing. No one seems to notice but Yuri. 

“She’s a tough one. It’s hard to argue with that kind of tenacity.” Asbel just snorts in response. Yuri doesn’t press further. “You should go back to help Jude and Milla,” he adds. “We’ll take care of things here.” Yuri hasn’t forgotten that Asbel hit him in the face and attacked Ludger knowing that they were looking for an Elympion of the exact same description. This is officially an investigation on an international scale and Asbel is about as discreet as a foghorn in broad daylight. “You’re only going to slow us down.” Perhaps he shouldn’t have said that because Asbel takes it as a challenge. 

“Do you even know where her office is?” Asbel bleats. 

“Do you?” Yuri squeaks indignantly. 

“Gentlemen.” Rowen sounds hoarse and defeated. Guilt hits Asbel before Yuri and both men look away like chastised children. Yuri takes a breath to calm himself down. The little Malak clearly meant a great deal to Asbel, so it’s only natural for him to be overwrought. He’ll just have to remind himself of that everytime he pisses him off. 

“Sorry, Rowen.” Yuri says. “We’ll get to work.” He turns to Ludger. “You ready?” Ludger gives him a thumbs up. Rowen sighs wearily and wipes his brow with a handkerchief. 

“Please bring whatever you find to my office. I must handle...everything else.” He says. 

With that, the three men are left alone to decide what to do next. Yuri has a sinking feeling that this is going to happen often. A guard leads them to Dr. Fodra’s third floor office. It’s right next to Jude’s. She certainly had a flair for the dramatic with all her lavish decorations and dead plants. Yuri has a sneaking suspicion that these poor creatures were dead long before Dr. Fodra was. According to Rowen, Dr. Fodra needed a wheelchair to get around. So her office is larger than most. Unlike the others, her desk is a U shape and her book shelves are low enough where she can reach everything she needs without standing. However, this means that it’s harder to know where to start. Asbel makes the first move but Ludger stops him. The Elympion ignores his indignant growl and he pulls a pair of black leather gloves out of his pocket and slides them on.

“Wow, you really carry those things around with you everywhere, huh?” Yuri says with an impressed grin. Ludger smirks in response. Asbel wonders how they can do that under such grim circumstances. When Ludger starts with Dr. Fodra’s desk, Asbel opens his mouth to protest but Yuri interrupts him  _ again _ . “Don’t. He’s an expert.” He doesn’t want to trust a mercenary and an Elympion with intelligence that can save Hyland. Is he really so useless? 

Ludger starts opening drawers and Asbel shuts the door to close out prying eyes. It feels disrespectful to be rooting through a woman’s things again.

“Major Victoria’s house was entirely ransacked, but Dr. Fodra’s office is entirely intact…” He muses. Yuri frowns in thought as Ludger starts taking things from drawers and looking for secret compartments. 

“Maybe the therion was looking for something she wouldn’t find in a university like this.” Yuri replies. “But I feel like a school would have more information than a rich old lady.” Asbel gives him the evil eye. “I mean here you even have access to free food every day. The only thing she wouldn’t need is…” 

“Money.” Asbel says. Yuri nods with the epiphany. “When I went through Major Victoria’s house, her strongbox was empty and she put a firearm in there instead.”

“So at least we know that Major Victoria wasn’t targeted for any other reason than being rich. And Dr. Fodra for having free reign over the Eleth Studies Department. So they’re looking for a certain demographic to take over. According to Rowen, she wasn’t great at using artes. So she had reduced levels of Eleth.” Yuri says. “What about Major Bell?”

“I served with her in Fendel.” Asbel says. “But never in her regiment. She changed after the war. When people said she’d been touched by Malevolence I thought…” He sighs in frustration, running a hand through his hair.

“So that gives us a victim type. Older, female with reduced Eleth…”

“Alone.” Asbel mutters. “No one would think twice if they seemed different. In fact, they’d probably be glad.” Yuri tries to think of anything Jude might’ve said about Dr. Fodra’s reputation, but thinking back to this morning, they didn’t make it easy on him. “One of us should’ve gone with him.” Asbel says as if he read his mind. 

“Well, Therions aren’t like normal daemons.” Yuri says. “I have a feeling she would’ve found some way to get him alone with or without us.” 

“We could’ve helped him.” Asbel persists. 

“How? Predicting the future?” Yuri bleats. “Come on, man. We can’t couldn’t have known.” 

“I  _ should have _ known.” Asbel replies sharply. Yuri opens his mouth to respond but Ludger calls their attention over to Dr. Fodra’s desk. There are two identical lab records with two different handwriting samples. Judging by their contents, one of them belongs to the therion. Ludger reaches under the desk and completely removes the topmost drawer, reaches all the way back and finds a bracelet that reads: Candidate #404 Dr. R.Z.Rugievit. 

“She didn’t even have a name…” Yuri says before he realizes he’s spoken out loud. Asbel glares at him but Ludger seems fixated on the bracelet. “You know the doctor?” Yuri asks. Ludger nods. He has two more objects of interest: spare bullets and what appears to be a personal journal. It feels like the first real breakthrough they’ve had. Ludger hurriedly flips through a few pages and lands on what appears to be shorthand. Neither Asbel nor Yuri can read it. 

“Blastia.” Ludger says. That’s right, they haven’t gone downstairs yet. Asbel is in no hurry to go back down there. He didn’t get a chance to survey the damage in the Eleth Chamber, but it’s the only place in the Enclave that has the equipment to make blastia. When they finally make it down, he’s not surprised to find that everything is irreparably destroyed. Asbel’s hopes crash to the floor. They thought Richard’s plan was foolproof. Everything is falling apart. 

“Man, Jude put up a hell of a fight.” Yuri mutters looking around the basement. There’s blood everywhere. Daemon blood is black and highly acidic so it’s easy to see Jude’s human blood tracked from a cold storage room in the North wing all the way to the Eleth Chamber. It’s even splattered on the ceiling. They used beakers, wire cables and chairs. Jude was determined to live. But now Yuri doesn’t know how long that’ll last. The  _ sound _ that came out of the doctor’s mouth when he realized what he’d done...gods, it’s enough to give you nightmares. 

“So did Queen.” Asbel says distantly.

“Who was she?” Yuri asks.

“She’s one of the triplets, along with Sophie and Emre.” Asbel replies. “Well...she was. We found them during the war, things got complicated as they always do. Richard and Emre became candidates for the Armatus Trials.” Yuri hisses in sympathy as the pieces connect. So that’s what’s killing Hyland’s king. He has a sneaking suspicion that Sorey might’ve been one of them too. Why else would a holy man waste sympathy on a therion unless he could relate to her? “We wanted to protect Sophie and Queenie but...we lost Queenie. When we found her she was...different.” Asbel tries not to think of when she tried to kill him but it comes unbidden. Her eyes were more dull and lifeless than just before her death. She almost succeeded too. “...and she never really recovered. She didn’t like many of the humans but preferred soft and shiny things and they seemed to like giving them to her. We didn’t have to watch her like Sophie and Emre, she could be left alone for months at a time...if only I had…”

“Stop.” Yuri says firmly. “We can’t change it now.” For a second, Asbel wants to punch him again. “Did you see that journal? They could’ve been watching Hyland for months, even if you did everything different, you just would’ve ended up dead or worse.” He catches Asbel by the shoulder and locks him with a determined glare and hopes his words get through to his thick skull. “We aren’t dealing with  _ Fendel _ . Elympios has changed a lot in the last ten years. They are much worse and much crueler than  _ anything _ you’ve seen.” 

Asbel saw  _ everything _ : Zavhert prison camp, Armatus Trials, children crushed under tanks and people traded like cigarettes. Malevolence infected the earth and people he knew. He lost friends, family and he’s still losing. It lives in him like a virus that can’t be cured. Not even sleep can shake the all consuming fear that his family will be dragged back into the fray once again. He can’t watch it all again. The pain, suffering and utter helplessness that comes with war. He can’t fail Richard again.

“Did your prophet tell you that?” Asbel mocks, throwing his hand off. 

“No. I’ve seen it.” Yuri hisses. He closes the distance between them; voice low, glare dangerous. “You know who I am. You know my reputation.” He’s inches away from Asbel’s face now, growling so no one can hear. “I killed that man for a reason.  _ Don’t forget that. _ ” A knock on the doorframe drags their gazes away from each other. 

Ludger stands in the doorway completely unimpressed. He tilts his head, beckoning them over to a storage locker down the East corridor. He’s already cracked the combination lock and opened it. There are five large black canisters sitting in the cold. To Asbel, they almost resemble sugar containers, the kind with the big clamp that keeps away air and bugs. These are far larger and have small lights on them just like the black lump he found in Queen’s shrine. Speaking of which, he rushes to pull it out and shows it to Ludger who takes it from him and inspects it. While he does that, Asbel goes up to the canisters only for Ludger to step in front of them. 

“Don’t. They’ll explode if you open them wrong.” Yuri replies. “Elympios has a lot of stuff like that. There are no artes so they’ve got to find other ways to keep things contained.” Ludger nods in agreement. 

“So what are they?” Asbel asks. Ludger flips to another page with translated symbols that says ELETH COMPRESSION. Those words don’t match in his head. How do you  _ compress eleth _ ? Eleth is what gives the planet life, you can’t just push it down. How is that even possible? He looks to Yuri to fill in the blanks but even he seems a little confused. 

“I saw stuff like this in Oscore but I don’t know what it does.” Yuri says shaking his head. Ludger’s expression is entirely unreadable. It only serves to aggravate Asbel even more. 

“Okay, no offense but what exactly is wrong with you again? You can clearly talk. Why can’t you tell us what this does?” He asks peevishly. Offensive is certainly taken, judging by the terse noise that comes out of Ludger’s throat. Looking at Yuri, he points to Asbel in such a way that the latter now knows you can say “what the hell” without saying a single word. 

“We’re gonna let that slide because you’ve had a rough day.” Yuri replies tartly. Ludger snorts. Yuri doesn’t speak for both of them. Ludger just rolls his eyes and walks past Asbel. Yuri glares at him as they follow him back into the hallway where they found Dr. Fodra’s wheelchair. It’s still there and Ludger double checks the journal before ripping its cushion off. 

It’s another small book. This time instead of tattered leather it’s bound by a very hard composite material marked with the words  _ Spirius Corporation _ . Ludger hands it to Yuri who flips through the small booklet. 

“It looks like these were her direct orders.” Yuri says. He shows Asbel. “See, there’s Dr. Fodra’s and Jude’s. He might’ve been her backup plan.” He gives it back to Ludger who studies the booklet for a bit longer. 

“Did the other one have anything on her?” Yuri asks.

“I won’t know until we go back to Lhant. My brother arranged the liquidation of Major Bell’s house. We should be able to look through her belongings tonight.” Asbel says. Gods, he’s so tired. Everywhere he goes, his life is unraveling. There are no Blastia. They lost Queen. There’s an invasion sitting just across the horizon and only three days to stop it. He needs to get a message to Richard as soon as possible. “I’m going to send a message to Windor by Slyphjay. Be ready to leave in half an hour.” Asbel is spent. All his hopes rest with Richard, he always has a contingency plan. 

By tomorrow, this will be nothing but a distant, ugly nightmare. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the lull in the action. This is the last of it. If you have the time, could you give me some feedback on how I've handled Ludger's introduction? Thanks guys, and thanks again for reading. :)

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any questions or just want to stop by, I am doctorcanon on Tumblr and ah_doctorcanon on twitter.


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